Slave of my Heart
by Emi-Lynn
Summary: When one of Gibbs' agents is rescued by Trent Kort, things get - complicated. Getting out was a whole lot harder than getting in, for all three of them.  Rating has gone up.
1. Chapter 1

a/n - I'm still restoring files for _Backfired_, but in the meantime here's the other big story I'm working on.

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Slave of my Heart

The ringing of the phone in the middle of the night was never a good sign.

"Yeah, Gibbs." He rubbed his eyes as he tried to focus on the small alarm clock sitting on the corner of the bedside table. 03.00 was a hell of a time to be awakened and his patience was short. "Whoever the hell this is, you better have a damn good reason for calling this early."

"I'm at a private hospital in Virginia with one of your boys. Is that a good enough reason?" The accent was familiar and one he didn't want to hear.

"Kort? Which hospital? What happened?" Now wide awake, Gibbs was already pulling pants on as he sprinting down the stairs. He stumbled and nearly fell at Kort's answer.

"Just get here, this isn't a secured line." He gave the address of a small private hospital north of Langley and hung up before Gibbs could ask anything else.

A clean shirt from the laundry room, a coat from the back of the sofa and shoes from the entryway, then Gibbs was out the door. "What in the hell have you gotten yourself into now, DiNozzo?"

-NCIS-

The forty minute drive took a little more than fifteen minutes, but the nurse wasn't surprised by his early arrival. She was also already aware of who he was. "Agent Gibbs, they're waiting for you in room three."

He didn't slow down until he was outside the exam room door, and then only to not startle his injured man inside. His path was blocked when Kort left the bedside and steered him to a far corner. "What the hell is going on, Kort? What was all that secure line crap? My people aren't on any op with you." His frown increased when he realized that Kort was shirtless, wearing an assortment of leather straps under a motorcycle jacket, a far cry from his usual suits. "What did you get him involved in?"

Angrily Gibbs turned away, moving closer to the bed as the medical staff retreated, finally getting a stunned look at his injured agent. "McGee? Ah, crap." Not quite touching, his hand skimmed down the battered body taking in the bite marks, scratches and bruises. One of the nurses in the room touched his arm.

"He's sedated, not unconscious. The doctor thought it would be less stressful while we examined him and collected any evidence."

She moved away while Gibbs continued to catalog McGee's injuries. The blood blisters and torn skin on his wrists was stark evidence how hard the young man had fought against whatever had happened to him. Gibbs didn't look up from Tim's slack face when Kort came up behind him.

"It wasn't me that got him caught up in this, blame Stephenson for that."

"Stephenson?" Gibbs thought for a moment, trying to latch onto the name. "FBI? On Fornell's team?"

Kort jerked his head back towards the corner and Gibbs followed him. Once they were out of earshot if McGee and any of the nurses, he started to explain. "There's a hardcore, underground S&M club in the city that's being run as a front by some heavy duty gun runners. I've been working to get close to the guy in charge for over two years."

"And Stephenson?"

"FBI's been working on the money laundering end of the equation for a few months. Stephenson tried to take a shortcut by giving them a gift."

"A gift?" Gibbs had a sick feeling exactly what that gift was. "Are you saying that Stephenson kidnapped my agent and handed him over to be gang raped? And you stood there and let it happen?"

"Relax pops, your baby agent saved himself, I just helped." Kort was smiling slightly, but the fierce look on Gibbs' face forced him to school his features as he turned serious. "He was roughed up and molested, but he wasn't raped. It didn't get that far."

Gibbs returned to the bed, reaching out and brushing a fingertip over the marred skin. "It was still too far." He had a lot more to say on the subject, but McGee was starting to wake up. Gibbs moved closer still and bent down, wanting him to see a familiar face when he opened his eyes. "Hey, welcome back."

The green eyes flitted around, as if expecting to see his attackers lurking in the corners. He sounded young and frightened. "Boss?"

"Easy, McGee, you're safe." Gibbs lightly pressed his palm against McGee's forehead, keeping him flat on the examining table. The doctor moved back in, forcing Gibbs to step back, but he stayed in McGee's line of sight. Apparently, the doctor was pleased with the results, because a nurse arrived with a pair of scrubs. Gibbs took them from her and waited until she and the doctor left.

Discharge papers in the works, Gibbs turned his attention back to McGee, sliding an arm under his shoulders and helping him to sit up. Tim swayed and Gibbs held on, letting Tim lean his forehead against his shoulder until the dizziness passed. "Okay now?" He got a slight nod as Tim straightened up. The young man was quiet and complacent as Gibbs pulled the top over his head and then carefully threaded his arms through the short sleeves.

Once Tim was laying back down, Gibbs folded back the blanket, being careful to keep his modesty preserved for as long as possible. He had the pants pulled up to McGee's upper thighs before he fully removed the blanket, revealing the dark bruises and scrapes over his hips and groin. Tim was silent, blocking out the world with an arm over his eyes. Gibbs tapped an unmarred spot on his hip. "Raise up just a bit if you can, McGee."

McGee was trembling by the time Gibbs had him dressed, but the older man wasn't sure if it was from the pain, the stress or sheer exhaustion. A wheelchair made the trip out to the car easier, Kort following behind with a box filled with the evidence bags from the hospital. After he had McGee in the car, Gibbs took the evidence and locked it in his trunk.

"Don't trust me with it?"

"Not until I know exactly what happened. Our conversation isn't over yet." Gibbs gave him a hard look before getting into the car. "Call Fornell, have him meet us at my place. After McGee is settled, the three of us are going to have a long talk about just what the hell happened tonight."

-NCIS-

It was a quiet ride back to Gibbs' home, but he didn't want to push McGee for answers quite yet, not until he had more information from Kort and Fornell. The headlights from Kort's car followed him into the driveway, illuminating Fornell's sedan waiting at the curb. Gibbs ignored both men as he concentrated on getting McGee out of the car and into the house.

"Easy Tim, I'll have you laying down in just a minute."

"No, please." Gibbs hadn't heard such a timid tone from McGee since his first few months on the team. "I... would it be all right if I showered? I really need... I need to wash them off of me... please, Boss."

Gibbs wanted to kick himself. McGee may have escaped an actual, penetrative rape, but he had been the victim of a brutal sexual assault with probably multiple assailants. He changed direction and steered the young man to the upstairs bathroom with its shower-tub combination. "Of course you can. Wait here and I'll bring you some towels and a pair of sweats to sleep in, all right?" He waited until McGee was sitting on the closed lid of the toilet before backing out of the small room.

Ignoring Fornell's attempt to question him, Gibbs gathered what was needed and quickly returned to McGee, helping him pull off the paper shirt before pointing out the soft sweats and towels laid out on the counter. "Yell if you need anything, and don't lock the door, okay?" After he got a shaky nod in return, he left to give Tim some privacy.

A quick jerk of the head sufficed as an order to follow him downstairs and the three men retreated to the basement. Gibbs didn't waste any time or pull any punches. "What the hell kind of operation is Stephenson involved in?"

Fornell stared at him, blankly. "Stephenson? Greg Stephenson? He's not, he's been in the office doing paperwork all week."

"So, his little foray into the S&M dungeons is just a side hobby?" Gibbs leaned his hip against the workbench, his arms crossed over his chest.

"What? No, that was an op, but we shut it down."

"Why?"

The FBI agent wasn't sure how Gibbs even knew about the undercover operation that had been canceled, or what his interest in it was, but he found himself answering. "It was considered too high risk. Greg claimed that only way for him to make any progress was to give them... well..."

"A gift? Somebody to tie down and..."

"Yeah." Pinching the bridge of his nose, Fornell cut him off, obviously uncomfortable with the entire line of questioning. He looked at Kort, taking in his garb. "The CIA already had someone in place, so our Director decided to cut our loses. He sure as hell was not going to put one of our agents through that."

Gibbs came off the bench in a hurry. "Oh, but it was all right to put one of my agents through it?"

"No. Like I said, the op was canceled." Fornell looked up at the ceiling, and then back at Gibbs, finally putting the pieces together. "Oh no, no way, Greg would not do something like that. If your kid ended up there, it had to be because of another reason."

Trent Kort spoke up for the first time since Fornell had joined them. "McGee was there because your man dragged his naked, unconscious body into the dungeon and chained him up."

"I don't believe it." Fornell pulled out his cell phone and started dialing. "There's got to be another explanation. I'll get Stephenson on the line and..."

"Oh, I don't think he'll be in any shape to talk to anyone."

Fornell closed his phone when the call went to voice mail. "What is that suppose to mean?"

"Do you need me to draw you a picture, Agent Fornell?" Kort made the title sound like a slur. "That club is populated by hardcore sadists that have been banned from every other club and scene all up and down the Eastern seaboard. Guys that are too brutal to keep their own subs, and Stephenson got them all worked up, then handed them a virgin on a silver platter. I guarantee you that when they lost the kid, somebody had to take his place tonight."

"And you let that happen?"

Kort gave him a disgusted look. "At least in our agency, the kidnapped victim has priority over the dirty agent that kidnapped him."

"I'm not ready to buy that." Fornell turned to Gibbs. "How do you know McGee wasn't helping him?"

"I don't care how long we've been friends, Tobias. Don't you dare turn this back on McGee. There is no way he'd willingly put himself in that situation, and sure as hell not behind my back." Leaving Fornell to stew on that, Gibbs turned his attention back to Kort.

"You said he saved himself. How did he stop them?"

Kort shook his head at the memory. At the time it had been quite a surprise. "He understood the scene enough to claim he was a collared sub, that Stephenson had stolen him from his master."

"That convinced them to let him go?" From his tone, Kort knew that Gibbs was far from convinced.

"Kid kept on about how his master was going to track each of them down and kill them."

Gibbs remembered what Kort had said earlier. "And you backed him up?'

"Over the years, I've made vague comments about the master that trained me, and I let them believe they're one in the same. Eventually it was enough to get them to back off." Kort glanced over at the water heater in the corner. The water had been running through the pipes ever since they'd come downstairs. "How big is that damn water heater, Gibbs?"

Gibbs quickly glanced down at his watch, alarmed at how much time had passed before heading back up the stairs at a dead run. He paused at the bathroom door. "McGee? Tim? You okay?" When there was no answer, he slowly opened the door. "I'm coming in." Through the shower curtain he could see the huddled figure in the tub. He slowly eased the curtain back, as to not startle the young man. "Ah, Timmy."

McGee was sitting on the floor of the tub, his head resting on his drawn up knees. He didn't react when Gibbs shut off the now cold water that was pounding down on him. Gibbs turned to the men that had followed him upstairs. "Kort, there's a package of Ducky's tea bags behind the coffee grounds. Not too hot, but make it extra sweet. Fornell, use the dryer and microwave to start warming blankets and these." He tossed the sweats and some of the towels to Fornell. Dismissing them from his mind for the moment, Gibbs turned his attention back to his man. With the next towel from the stack he gently blotted the water from Tim's hair before moving on to his face. Tim seemed only vaguely aware of his ministrations as he continued to dry him, wincing at the angry red marks that came from too hot of water and too hard of scrubbing.

"B'ss?" His awareness increasing, McGee looked around, surprised to find himself sitting in the tub. "Sorry... must have spaced out for a minute."

"It's okay, McGee, you've had a pretty rough night." By now Gibbs had him as dry as he could in this position. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Fornell arrive back with several large bath sheets, freshly warmed. "Let's get you up on your feet and out of here, all right?" He didn't really wait for an answer as he shifted to better lift McGee up. "Wrap your arms around my neck, that's it."

With his arms draped around Gibbs' neck and his face buried in the older man's shoulder, McGee was unaware of Fornell standing in the doorway watching as Gibbs lifted him out of the tub. For his part, Fornell found himself unable to turn away as he took in every scratch, bruise and bite mark that littered the younger man's body. Just one glance at the damage done to his wrists and ankles proved that he hadn't been a willing participant in whatever scheme Stephenson had cooked up. Silently he handed the warm towel to Gibbs and then backed off.

After the towel was wrapped around his waist, McGee straightened up enough to look Gibbs in the eye. "We're suppose to be on the same side, Boss, why would he do this to me?"

"I don't know, McGee. Do you feel up to telling us how he got his hands on you?" When he got a short nod, he walked Tim to the bedroom before helping him into the warm sweats that Fornell handed over. While Gibbs was helping McGee dress, Fornell returned back downstairs and came back up with a warm blanket, followed by Kort with a cup of tea.

Tim was obviously aware of the other men, but he only looked at his boss as Gibbs tucked the warmed blanket around him before pulling up the other blankets already on the bed. Enough pillows were behind him to allow him to take the cup even though Gibbs helped support it. He shuddered after the first sip.

"Too sweet."

"You're still in shock, you need the sugar." Gibbs brought the cup closer and Tim obediently drank enough to satisfy the older man. Setting the cup down for now, Gibbs shifted to lean back against the headboard so that Tim could rest against him

Gibbs waited, letting McGee set the pace. Seeing the sunrise starting through the window, he was willing to wait all day if necessary, but after a few minutes McGee began speaking in a low, monotone voice.

"I worked late down in cybercrimes helping them with a case. When I was finished, the rest of our team had already left, so I went home, too. I... I hadn't eaten all day so I stopped and picked up an order of clam chowder on my way. Stephenson pulled into the apartment parking lot right behind me." McGee turned to look directly at Gibbs. "He told me that Fornell was undercover and had missed his check-in. That you had gone in after him, but they'd lost the signal, that there was some sort of interference they couldn't break through. Stupid, I was so stupid because I believed him. I asked where the rest of our team was and he said they were outside the building, waiting for me to hack into the security system and find you."

"Not stupid, McGee. You trusted a fellow agent and tried to watch my back." Hearing the support, Tim dropped his head down onto Gibbs' chest as his trembling increased, the words becoming more difficult.

"He had it all planned out. As soon as I got in his car, he handed me a stack of printouts on a security system. There were probably over two hundred pages and I was so busy trying to sort it all out that I didn't even pay attention to where he was driving. He pulled into this alley. One of the FBI's surveillance vans was there and I didn't hesitate, just climbed in."

Gibbs was furious that McGee's drive to keep him safe was turned into a weapon against the younger man. "When did you realize it was a trap?"

There was a hitch in Tim's breathing and Gibbs waited, rubbing his back, until he could continue. "The second I stepped inside, I knew something was wrong. All the equipment was dark. It takes a good thirty minutes to get everything online and calibrated, and I started to yell at him for wasting time, but something hit the back of my head before I could even turn around."

Thick but sensitive fingers could still feel the knot on the back of McGee's head. "Were you knocked out?"

Tim struggled to recount the details. "No, but I went down. Before I could react he was on top of me. His knees were pressing so hard on my back I couldn't move and he grabbed my hair, bent my neck so far back, I thought he was going to snap it. And then..."

When McGee's voice faded, Gibbs continued to stroke his back, painfully aware now of the cause of the two large bruises, just below his shoulder blades. A point of painful submission, especially considering Stephenson's weight. After a few minutes, McGee took a deep, shuddering breath and continued.

"He shoved a cloth against my face, I remember the smell of the chloroform. I tried to hold my breath, but he slammed one of his knees into my back again and I gasped. I couldn't help it. The last thing I remember was him ripping my shirt open. When I woke up, I was... I was in that place. I was naked and hanging from leather cuffs and chains and my legs were spread wide and chained. I couldn't move at all. There were so many of them, and they were touching me and hurting me and they were arguing over who was going to get my ass first because their last toy died before everybody got a go at him." The words were tumbling out faster and faster as McGee relived the terror of waking up in that dungeon. Gibbs pulled him closer and gently rocked him while glaring at Fornell.

Fornell leaned heavily against the wall, feeling the weight of Gibbs anger and his own guilt over not recognizing what was brewing in Greg Stephenson's mind, while Kort used the opportunity to move closer and squat down next to the bed. "Claiming to have been stolen from your master was a stroke of brilliance, kid. How'd you know?"

When McGee didn't say anything right away, Gibbs made a guess. "Abby tell you about it?"

He finally nodded. "She told me a lot about the lifestyle, talked me into going with her to watch a scene once. It was nothing like this though. I just... I had to try and convince them because I knew I wouldn't live through what they were going to do to me, and..." Tim straightened and turned to look Gibbs in the eye. "I didn't want you to think I wanted that, that I thought so little of myself to let strangers use me like that."


	2. Chapter 2

a/n - No real spoilers in this one yet, but figure it being set sometime early in season six as the team is still settling back in after being broken apart by Vance. Thanks for all the great reviews.

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Gibbs quietly closed the door behind him and headed towards the kitchen. Abby was on her way, McGee had finally fallen asleep, and he was in desperate need of coffee. Kort was sitting at his kitchen table, a mug already in hand. Any other day he would have made a comment about Kort making himself at home, but under the circumstances he couldn't begrudge the man a cup of coffee. "Fornell leave?"

"Seemed to think some damage control was necessary. Can't imagine why."

He couldn't help but snort at the droll remark. "Yeah, can't imagine."

Kort wasn't done. "Well, if he's hoping to locate evidence of Stephenson's activities, he's too late. My guys found both the surveillance van and the agency sedan he used. They're being towed to the Navy Yard right now. My Director has agreed this is an NCIS case."

"Thanks, I owe you, hell, a lot more than one. Any lead on Stephenson yet?"

"Body will probably turn up later today I've got people watching the locals LEO's"

"You're sure he's dead?" Gibbs couldn't describe how he felt talking so casually about the death of a fellow agent, no matter what led up to it. An odd look crossed Kort's face.

"I hope so, poor stupid sap."

The sound of a roadster pulling into the driveway stopped the conversation from continuing. Gibbs met Abby at the door and led her downstairs as she peppered him with questions. "Gibbs, what's going on? Why'd you need me here this early on our day off? Is everything all right? Oh my God, it's not. What happened? Is somebody hurt? Did something happen?" Still asking, her voice faded off as they moved down the stairs.

In the now quiet kitchen Kort leaned back and rubbed his face. He hadn't told Gibbs how much trouble his rescue of McGee was causing him with his own agency. If he'd lost his chance to nail his target because of his choice to save Gibbs' young man, Kort knew he'd spend the remaining years of his career pushing papers, at least until they needed someone for a suicide mission. Before his thoughts could spiral any further downward, the pounding of footsteps could be heard coming up the stairs and he was on the receiving end of a full body Abby hug that almost knocked him out of the chair.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you for saving our Timmy. I take back every mean thing I ever thought about you."

Kort grabbed the table to keep from being knocked over. "Umm, thank you, I think." Eventually Gibbs took pity on him and pulled her back.

"Abs, evidence, remember?

She let go reluctantly before straightening and giving him a snappy salute. "You're right, Bossman. Give me a day in the lab and I'll know everything... everything they did to McGee." She blinked back tears and Gibbs hugged her as he steered her out the door.

"He's going to be all right, just remember that. He's alive and safe and we're going to keep him that way."

"You're going to take care of him, right Gibbs? I mean he's going to need you, really need you, and McGee's not very good at asking for help."

"Yeah, Abs," he leaned forward and kissed her cheek. "I'll take care of him."

Kort laughed softly and shook his head as Gibbs left with the Goth to transfer the evidence to her custody. Between the swabs and photographic evidence taken at the hospital and the two vehicles now sitting in her evidence garage, she'd be busy for days. It had been a surprise to find out she was the source of McGee's knowledge in the dungeon, but then Gibbs' people were usually full of surprises.

-NCIS-

Gibbs was quiet when he came back in, ignoring Kort, and loaded the washer with towels and all the extra bedding he could find even as he could feel the other man watching him. Once the washer was running, Kort finally broke the silence. "How long have you been out of the game?"

"What makes you think I was ever in the game?"

Kort watched him closely. "The sign of a good Dom is the aftercare he gives his sub."

"I don't need to whip my people to know how to take care of them."

"When he was telling them that his master would hunt them down and kill them for taking him, he was talking about you, you know that."

Gibbs gave a half shrug. "Damn straight, I would have hunted them down. Doesn't make me his master."

"You're his master, Gibbs, trust me."

The older man had a hundred reasons why Kort was wrong, but McGee cried out in his sleep, ending the conversation. Without giving it a thought, Gibbs found himself on the bed, Tim wrapped in his arms as he rocked and soothed him through the nightmare, at least until he looked up and saw Kort standing in the doorway. Kort smiled and shook his head before mouthing the word 'master' as he closed the door.

-NCIS-

"He go back to sleep?"

"Yeah." Gibbs fell back onto the sofa when he returned from this latest trip to check on McGee. It was his third trip to the bedroom since his conversation with Kort. The young man's sleep was restless and plagued with nightmares and Gibbs was also feeling the strain. "Don't take this the wrong way, but why are you still here? If McGee is still in danger from these people, I need to know about it."

"We don't know what Stephenson told them after I left with the kid.. Better safe than sorry." Kort picked up the glass of bourbon he'd been nursing all afternoon. "Besides, they will assume that I took him back to his master."

"His master? You're still on that jag?"

"Yes, well, it would be expected that I'd remain either to help care for him or for my punishment."

Gibbs' eyebrow migrated north. "Your punishment? I assume you don't mean a headslap?"

"I have a whip in my car if you're so inclined." Kort's words stopped Gibbs cold.

"A whip, you're serious?" When he realized the other man was serious, he gave it a long thought. "No, I think this master is just glad to get his boy home safely." The comment was made in jest, but Kort was glad to see Gibbs refer to himself as a master, since he hadn't yet told him of the biggest complication they could still face.

A rattling of the front door brought Kort to his feet, gun at the ready. Gibbs had heard the distinctive sounds of Ducky's Morgan and just shook his head at the other man. When she left, Abby had promised to send him over to check on McGee. "It's open, Ducky."

"Good heavens, Jethro, I could hardly believe it what Abigail told me what happened to our Timothy." Ducky set his bag down on the back of the sofa. "I spoke to the doctor who treated him at the hospital and he tells me Tim refused a prescription of sleeping pills. How is he resting?" Ducky had used every bit of his authority as both McGee's personal physician and his medical proxy to get his questions answered.

"Not worth a damn, Duck. I don't think he's slept for more than an hour at a stretch." The muffled cries of another nightmare coming from the bedroom proved his point and Ducky took his bag and followed Gibbs into the room, allowing Gibbs to comfort Tim before joining them at the bedside.

"Hello, Timothy, I hear you've had a rough go of it. Let's take a quick look at how you're doing and we'll see if we can get you a little more comfortable." The Scotsman tried to sound as unassuming as he could, but Tim still pulled back. Gibbs was on the other side of the bed and steadied him.

"It's okay, Tim. Ducky just want to make sure you're all right." It was a long, tense wait until Tim finally nodded his acceptance and stoically endured another exam, never looking away from Gibbs. Once it was done, Ducky pulled the covers back up, smoothing them over his shoulders.

"You're taking the pain medications and antibiotics they gave you?" When Tim nodded again Ducky pulled out a new bottle of pills and a large tube of a prescription cream. "I may not agree with your decision to refuse the sleeping pills, but perhaps you will find these are a suitable compromise. They're very mild and should help you relax without putting you under."

"The nightmares... I need to be able to wake up, Ducky."

Now Ducky understood. It was the fear of being trapped in his nightmares that kept McGee from accepting the healing of a medically induced sleep. "Of course, lad, then these should do the trick. I also want you to start using this cream on your wounds, twice a day at least. Jethro can help you with the ones you can't reach. You should find it to be very soothing and cooling, especially on your wrists and ankles."

"Thanks, Ducky."

"Of course, Tim. Well, I will be on my way. Jethro, would you be so good as to walk me out?"

"Sure, Duck." Gibbs laid his hand on Tim's forehead. "McGee, I'll bring you back a fresh glass of water to take your pills, alright?" Tim gave a nod as he closed his eyes, not acknowledging the unspoken 'we are going to talk privately about you' he heard in their voices.

The two men were silent until they reached the porch, both leaning against the railing, lost in thought for the moment. Not surprisingly, it was Ducky that broke the silence. "This is not something that will be fixed with a slap on the back of the head, Jethro."

"I know, Ducky."

"Timothy has always had a bit of uncertainty about his place with the team and especially with you. To know that someone at the FBI considered him, well, disposable will certainly exacerbate that."

"I know, Ducky."

"Then there is your confounding relationship with our Mr. Kort. Tim is understandably grateful for his timely rescue, as well he should be, but at the same time he bases his reaction to someone on your feelings. I think we can all safely assume that you and Kort will never be best friends, but right now Timothy does not need his loyalties divided or questioned."

That one was a bit harder, but Gibbs had already made the decision to tolerate Kort for the foreseeable future. "I know, Ducky." Ducky turned to face him, arms crossed over his chest, making Gibbs feel a bit like an errant schoolboy. "Hey, he's still in my house, drinking my best bourbon. What more do you want?"

"Give the man a shirt, Jethro. He looks ridiculous sitting in your living room wearing a leather harness in the middle of the afternoon. Unless, of course, you're planning on whipping the man and in that case I suggest you get it over with so I can treat him as well before I return to the Yard to assist Abby with McGee's case."

Gibbs rolled his eyes. "Fine, I'll give him a damn shirt. Happy?"

"Ecstatic." Ducky turned serious. "I am still worried about Timothy, as is Abby. Despite his years as an agent and for all his book smarts, that young man is still very innocent and naive. To have been kidnapped by a fellow agent with such a cruel intent could very well shatter his trust. I don't know what that man told him to convince him..."

"Me, Ducky."

"What?"

"He thought I was the one in trouble. This happened because he wanted to save me." Gibbs let his head drop. "Damn it, Duck,"

"Now, don't you go blaming yourself, Jethro. The only one at fault here is the man that tricked him."

"And the dozen or so that attacked and molested him while he was chained up and helpless."

Ducky gave him a sad smile of acknowledgment. "Yes, well... keep your focus where it's needed Jethro. It's not justice if Tim is destroyed in the process. I will leave him in your capable hands, call if either of you need anything."

-NCIS-

Gibbs went straight into the laundry room, noting that Kort had moved the load from the washer to the dryer. He dug thought the basket of clean clothes, grabbing a towel and an oversized sweatshirt before throwing them to Kort. "Ducky's right. You look ridiculous doing my laundry in that get up." He ignored the laugh, instead stepping back into the kitchen. By the time Kort returned, wearing a Marine Corps logo on his chest, Gibbs had soup warming on the stove and was digging through a cupboard.

It took a minute, but Gibbs turned around with a bed tray to see Kort smirking at him. "Never would have guessed you the type, Gibbs."

"Hey, I've been married. I guarantee you, I've served breakfast in bed a few times. Besides, he needs to have something in his stomach before he takes any pills." When Gibbs left the kitchen with the loaded tray, Kort stepped out onto the back deck to start making some calls.

-NCIS-

McGee struggled to sit up when Gibbs came through the door with the tray. Gibbs quickly set it down on the dresser. "Don't push it, McGee. Let me help you."

"Thanks, Boss." Once he was settled, Gibbs set the tray over his lap before sitting on the edge of the bed. Tim picked at his food. "What happens now?"

"You take it easy and let us do the heavy lifting on this one, McGee."

"What about Stephenson? What's going to happen to him?"

Gibbs thought about what Kort said. "I don't think you're going to have to worry about him."

"The FBI is really going to let him be arrested?"

"I think it's going to be more of a natural selection."

Tim faltered for a moment. "I don't understand."

"It's okay, Tim, don't worry about it. All you need to know right now is that he'll never come near you again. Can you eat any more?"

He'd managed to get about half the bowl of soup down and a few of the crackers. "I don't think so, I'm sorry."

Gibbs took the tray and set it aside. "It's okay. You take your pills and we'll get that cream on you. Then you can rest some more." After Tim dutifully swallowed the pills, Gibbs helped him take off the sweats and held out the tube of cream, changing his mind when he saw how badly McGee's hands were shaking.

"I'm sorry."

"It's okay." He knew that it really wasn't, even as he repeated himself, but Gibbs didn't know what else to say. Instead, he opened the tube and gently started spreading the cream on McGee's injuries, starting with his arms before working his way across his chest. Other than a gasp when Gibbs cared for his badly mauled nipples, Tim was silent.

Instead of rolling McGee onto his side to reach the marks on his back, Gibbs lifted him up to rest against his shoulder, freezing for a moment as Tim sighed and nuzzled his face instinctively into his neck. Without conscious thought he brushed his lips against the younger man's temple as he stroked up and down the bruised and battered back. Once the injuries were treated, his hands instinctively started kneading the knots and tight muscles under the marred skin, feeling Tim settle heavier and heavier against him. Eventually, he laid the pliant figure back down and began working on his legs, uncovering them one at a time and rolling Tim onto each side as his hands worked their way around him.

Finally all that was left was his badly bruised and scraped groin. He watched McGee's face carefully as he pulled the blanket away, but the look of trust on that sleepy face never wavered. Feeling a strong wave of protectiveness, Gibbs tenderly dabbed the cream down the angry looking scratch on his cock before lifting it to the side and repeating the action on his balls. One scrape went down onto the backside of Tim's scrotum and after one more quick glance at the younger man's face, Gibbs nudged his legs further apart. Splitting his attention between Tim's face and the damaged skin he carefully smoothed the cream, keeping his touch light. A crisscross pattern of scratches, some of them deep enough to have drawn blood marred the exposed skin.

Tim shuddered as fingers stroked across his entrance and his eyes flew open. Gibbs used his other hand to rub Tim's thigh as he tried to soothe him. "Easy, Tim, you're safe." Nodding, Tim immediately calmed down, never taking his eyes off his boss as Gibbs carefully continued.

Once Gibbs was done he tucked the blankets around Tim's form before slipping into the bathroom to wash his hands. When he returned, he laid his hand on the covered shoulder. McGee may be projecting the image of calm, but he couldn't hide the fine tremors that wracked his body. Letting his famous gut control his actions, Gibbs tucked the bedding tighter around the young man before laying on the bed next to him and pulling him close. After a moment, Tim relaxed against him, burying his face once again in the crook of his shoulder. As the silent trembling became more pronounced, the dampness of his shirt was the only true evidence of the young man's torment.

Sleep never came to the older man, but he was grateful for the blanket Kort draped over him sometime that night.


	3. Chapter 3

a/n - Glad you're liking this one, thank you for all your reviews. You'll probably be happy to hear that the next chapter of Backfired is about half re-written. Depending on if we end up at the hospital or not (yeah, story of my life lately) it should go up either Sunday or Monday. Saturday is already devoted to painting the floor and backdrops for my son's drum line show, sorry.

* * *

Soft footsteps outside the bedroom drew Gibbs attention just as dawn approached. The door didn't open, but he could hear Kort's voice through the door. "Looks like Stephenson's body turned up. I had it sent to the Yard for Dr Mallard." Continuing to listen, Gibbs followed Kort's path down the stairs and into the kitchen. He waited until he could smell the coffee before sliding off the bed.

No matter how carefully he backed away, the movement still woke McGee, but Gibbs stilled him with the press of a hand against the younger man's head. "Be right back with some coffee, how does that sound?"

"Coffee?"

Gibbs chuckled, McGee's love of coffee was almost as well known as his own. His hand trailed down Tim's head and across his cheek as he stood. "Stay put until I get back."

Kort was pouring three cups when Gibbs arrived in the kitchen. "He seemed to sleep pretty decent last night."

"Pain meds and the pills from Ducky seemed to do the trick." Gibbs took an appreciative whiff of the coffee before he took his first drink.

Smirk hidden behind his own cup, Kort kept his opinion quiet, but he was sure the peaceful rest was more of a result of McGee's living pillow. Schooling his features, he and Gibbs planned out what was necessary for the morning before Gibbs returned upstairs with coffee and meds.

-NCIS-

Tim was sitting up when Gibbs returned to the bedroom. "Hey, I thought you were going to stay put."

"I can't hide in here forever."

Gibbs handed over the pills and the coffee as he sat on the edge of the bed. "You're not hiding, you're recovering. There's nothing wrong with that. I wouldn't expect anyone to bounce right back after what happened to you. What I do expect," he waited until Tim looked up at him, "is that you give yourself time to heal both physically and up here." He tapped the side of McGee's head and waited for the younger man to think through what he said. Eventually, Tim nodded, but he didn't look up.

"I guess showing up at work looking like this might be a bad ideal, but don't you want your bed and your house back?" Even as he asked, Tim leaned closer to Gibbs.

"We managed okay last night, besides you're not going anywhere until I'm sure it's safe." Gibbs took the cup from Tim and began spreading the cream, starting on his wrists. "Until we have a better handle on what's happened, I want you either with me or someone I trust. I have to bring Vance up to speed with what's going on, but Kort is downstairs and Ducky is on his way." He pulled Tim closer so he could work on his back.

With his face now firmly buried in Gibbs' neck, Tim's voice was muffled, but the worry came through clearly. "Does the Director have to know everything?"

The tone told Gibbs the questions Tim couldn't verbalize. Will he be ashamed of me? Will he take me off the team? Without calling him out on his fears, Gibbs tried to answer everything. "He needs to know, but I won't tell him any more than I have to. Don't worry, nobody else is going to hurt you, not even Vance. Okay?" He felt, more than heard, the shaky agreement before he finished Tim's back and eased him onto the bed.

Repeating the pattern he'd set the night before, Gibbs continued to tenderly work the medicated cream into the damaged flesh. This placid, traumatized version of his young agent stoked the fire of revenge in his gut. He'd been so careful, shielding Tim from as much as he could, while still allowing him to develop as an agent. Stephenson had shattered all of that by kidnapping his boy and subjecting him to horrors he should never have imagined, let alone experience. Tim was strong and would bounce back, but until then, Gibbs was going to cherish the time he could take care of him.

Last night, Tim had watched his face as he treated Tim's injured groin. Today, Tim stared at Gibbs' strong hand as the fingers gently touched him. Gibbs spent extra time on the painful looking scratch on the back of Tim's scrotum, working more of the cream than was necessary into the sensitive skin between his balls and his entrance. When he finally finished, Gibbs pulled the blankets up over Tim and leaned close to whisper in his ear. "Do you remember when you joined the team? I told you that you belong to me. Nobody hurts what's mine and gets away with it. You just concentrate on getting better and let me worry about everything else." He waited until Tim nodded before leaving the room.

Ducky met him on the stairs. "How is our young man this morning? Kort tells me he eventually did get a restful night's sleep." He smiled at his old friend. "I am glad to see him able to lean on you right now, Jethro. That support will go a long way in helping Timothy regain his equilibrium."

"I'll take care of him, Duck, don't worry." Gibbs patted him on the back before continuing on downstairs. Ducky waited and listened until he head the front door shut.

"I know you're going to take care of him, Jethro. It's what you've wanted for a long time, but it's later that I'm worried about."

-NCIS-

Tim heard the voices outside his room, but they were too low to understand. He didn't need to hear the words to know they were talking about him. Closing his eyes, he waited for either Ducky or Kort to come into the room.

"Timothy, lad, how are you feeling this morning?" Trying to appear nonthreatening, Ducky stepped closer to the bed with a smile on his face, but Tim visibly withdrew almost immediately.

"Hey, Ducky. Kinda tired, just took my pills."

Ducky backed up, pulling the chair further away from the bed before sitting down. "Of course, do you feel up to a short exam before you go back to sleep? I'd like to see how your wounds are healing."

"I'm all right, Gibbs took care of them." He couldn't articulate why he didn't want the kindly doctor touching him right now.

"You would be more comfortable if I waited until Jethro returned." It was a statement, not a question.

Tim shrugged. "I'm sorry, Ducky. I know you're not going to hurt me, I... I don't know what's wrong with me."

Elbows resting on his knees, Ducky leaned forward slightly. "You've gone through something horrifically traumatic, Timothy. A lesser man would not have been able to keep his wits about him long enough to stay alive. It's perfectly natural to react to the stress when it's over and one is finally safe. That is it, isn't it? Jethro makes you feel safe right now, more than anyone else could." Ducky watched Tim, almost seeing the gears turning and patiently waited.

Eventually Tim nodded before looking up at Ducky. "Yeah, he does. In my head I know it's over and I'm safe, but..."

"But it is only with your mentor that you truly feel safe."

Tim looked back down as he picked at some lint on the blanket. "Probably not something he knew he was signing up for."

"Let me tell you about our good friend, Leroy Jethro Gibbs." Ducky waited until Tim made eye contact again. "He likes strong people, is drawn to strong people, but deep down he needs to be needed."

-NCIS-

Vance leaned back, pinching the bridge of his nose as he absorbed what Gibbs had told him. "You should have called me that night."

"Was kinda busy, Leon."

"Will McGee recover?"

"Of course."

"I'm not just talking about a physical recovery, Gibbs."

Suddenly angry, Gibbs had to force himself to stay calm. "McGee is a lot stronger than you give him credit for. I'm not saying it will be easy or quick, but McGee will come back from this just fine." He gave his superior a hard look. "You are willing to give him the time needed, right? He was targeted because of his position here as an agent."

"Targeted by another agent from another agency, an agent you're telling me is now on a slab downstairs. My God, Gibbs the fall-out from this is going to be a nightmare, would have been nice to have a little heads-up."

Gibbs had never bothered to sit down, but now he was pacing. "Fine, here's your heads-up. A rogue FBI agent tricked McGee into believing I was in danger. He used a FBI surveillance van to make it look real. He then attacked, drugged and kidnapped Agent McGee in some sick, twisted plan to allow him to be raped and tortured to death for an undercover operation his superiors had already canceled. McGee managed to save himself with the help of Trent Kort, his kidnapper managed to get himself killed by the sick bastards he was trying to impress, and all the evidence is in our evidence lock-up."

"Appreciate the timely report, Gibbs." Vance had that pinched look on his face that would make Abby suggest more fiber in his diet. "How soon before the FBI shows up demanding that we hand over the body and the evidence?"

Now Gibbs had to smile. "I do believe it's against protocol for their agency to privately investigate themselves with no oversight. At least that's the line of bull Fornell pulled when you and he investigated Jenny."

"Point taken." Vance could recognize a losing battle. "How much does the FBI know so far? When will McGee be ready to make a formal statement?"

"Fornell was at my house when McGee told me what happened. Between what he heard from McGee and Kort, he knows as much as I do. More, probably, since he knew what the original FBI plan was before they shut it down."

"And the formal statement?"

Gibbs was already heading for the door. "I'm not pushing him, Leon. He'll make it when he's ready. DiNozzo and Ziva have a backlog of paperwork, so after I check with Abby I'm going back home. Until we know for sure if they identified him or not, I want McGee protected."

"Who's with him now?"

"Kort." Gibbs knew that was not what Vance wanted to hear.

The scowl confirmed it. "There's no such thing as being caught up with paperwork. Use them for added security. I don't want that man nosing around my agency, Gibbs."

Touching the doorknob before turning around, Gibbs angrily marched back and leaned over the desk. "That man risked his life, his op and his career to help save McGee. In my book, that gives him a pass."

"Fine. Just keep him out of my building until you're sure he's housebroken."

-NCIS-

"Would you join me in a cup of tea, Mr. Kort, instead of that drain cleaner Jethro calls coffee?" Ducky entered the kitchen at a brisk pace and went straight to the cupboard where Gibbs kept the tea bags. It wasn't a proper tea, but Ducky compromised to make it easier on Gibbs. "Since you appear to be moving around all right this morning, I assume that Jethro opted not to whip you after I left yesterday. Tell me, do you carry a flogger or a cat-o-nine tails?" Ducky turned around and gave Kort an appraising look. "Myself, I always preferred a twelve plait signal whip. Much easier to control, and it's all about the control, isn't it?"

Kort froze, cup halfway to his mouth. He'd always said Gibbs' people were full of surprises, but this one had caught him off guard. "Didn't know you were in the game, Dr. Mallard."

"I retired from the scene years ago, but if find the verbal training methods quite effective in our line of work. Now, how about that cup of tea?" Without waiting for an answer, Ducky started the water, making a note to bring a proper teapot. He had a suspicion he was going to be needing it before all the dust settled.

Once the tea replaced the coffee, Kort was ready to ask his question. "What about Gibbs, was he ever in the scene?"

"Why didn't you ask him?" Ducky watched him for a moment before answering his own question. "He wouldn't give you an answer, would he?"

"Does he ever?"

Ducky had to give him that one, but he had a more pressing concern. "This isn't over, is it?"

Kort struggled to explain. "My undercover persona shouldn't have cared what happened to the kid. Helping him weakened me in their eyes, told them that I was still under the control of my former trainer."

"And they believe that Timothy belongs to your former trainer, which keeps him on their radar."

"It's a possibility."


	4. Chapter 4

Still annoyed at Vance, Gibbs stormed down to the bullpen, wanting to give instructions to the rest of the team before checking in with Abby and getting back to McGee. Tony looked up, grinning as he arrived. "Hey, Boss, you fighting with Vance already?"

Gibbs just grunted as he started to check his messages, five were from Fornell and he erased them. He'd need to talk to Fornell, but not in front of Tony and Ziva. From his own desk, Tony continued to make small talk.

"Hey, Boss, what's up with Stephenson? He was here the other night, acting like we were best buds. Is Fornell trying to get some information out of us?" Tony didn't realize the effect his words were having on Gibbs. "I mean, since when did any of us want to hang out with the FBI?"

The plastic of the phone handset creaked under his hand. "What. Exactly. Did. He. Say?"

Tony wasn't picking up on Gibbs' sudden tension. "Wanted me to go undercover at some club for him, said you'd approved it, but you were upstairs in MTAC and I knew you would have told me yourself. I figured he wanted somebody else to do all the hard work to make him look good. Guess I was right, because when I offered to go upstairs and ask you, he backed off."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

By now Tony was picking up on the stress in Gibbs' voice. "You were busy in MTAC and it wasn't that big of a deal. I mean, it wasn't, was it?" Now very unsure of himself, Tony's words trailed off. "Did I screw up, Boss?"

Gibbs pinched the bridge of his nose as he fought down his growing anger. There was no way DiNozzo could have known what Stephenson's real plan was or how determined he had been. At the same time, the possibility that he could have stopped Stephenson before he ever touched McGee burned in his gut. "That bastard didn't stop with you."

"Boss?"

"You and Ziva review cold cases today." Without explaining further, Gibbs turned and walked to the elevator. Once it closed behind him, Tony turned to Ziva.

"What just happened?"

Ziva looked thoughtful as she looked at the untouched desk. "I have a better question, where is McGee this morning?"

Tony paled at the implication when added to what Gibbs had said. "Abby will know if something is going on." Not wanting to wait for the elevator, he turned towards the stairs.

-NCIS-

"Talk to me Abby." Gibbs didn't want to waste any time, but he hoped she'd have a list of names for him. Instead of answering immediately, she threw herself into his arms as she burst into tears. Gibbs rode it out, knowing she had to get it out of her system before she could concentrate on the case. Eventually the sobs slowed and she straightened up. Gibbs wiped the tears off her face and gave her an encouraging smile. "You ready to get justice for McGee?"

She took a deep, shuddering breath and was all business. "It took longer to run the samples because so many of them had overlapping DNA, but I've identified nineteen individual men that assaulted McGee. He... he also fought hard enough that his wrists picked up epithelials from the last victim they had chained up. I matched that up to a John Doe found a few months ago."

"How much evidence was recovered with the John Doe?" Gibbs was hoping to build a case solid enough to not need McGee to ever take the stand.

"No recoverable evidence survived what they did to the body afterward, Gibbs." Abby picked up the print-out she'd been staring at most of the morning. "John Doe bled to death from massive internal damage to his rectum."

"Raped to death?" Gibbs hands were tightly clenched at his sides as he remembered what Tim had told him. "With no semen recovered at all?"

She looked sick to her stomach. "A bleach enema took care of that, then they set him on fire. The autopsy wasn't able to tell them much since there wasn't a huge amount of skin left on the body."

"We got McGee back intact, Abby, and we're going to stop these animals from killing anyone else."

"You promise?"

Gibbs pulled her close as she started to cry again. He knew it was tearing her apart to not see McGee and give him one of her famous, full body hugs. "I promise, Abs, I'll make them pay and the FBI admit that Stephenson was involved."

Her voice was muffled against his chest. "And they'll resist arrest?"

"You can count on it."

-NCIS-

Tony froze in the hallway as he watched Abby launch herself into Gibbs' arms, sobbing. It didn't take long for him to connect the dots and realize that Tim had suffered whatever fate Stephenson had originally planned for him. When he heard them discussing the evidence that had been pulled from McGee's body, he had to lean against the wall to stay upright. Nineteen to one, his Probie never stood a chance. Stumbling down the hallway, the last thing he heard was Gibbs' wish that McGee's attackers would resist arrest, filling his mind with the images of Gibbs outnumbered, but in revenge mode. He staggered through the fire door, heading down to Autopsy to see McGee for himself.

-NCIS-

Gibbs left the lab just in time to hear the door to the stairs click shut. Easing it open, heavy, uneven footsteps echoed up through the stairwell. He quickly realized that someone could have overheard his conversation with Abby and silently followed down the stairs.

-NCIS-

"Palmer?"

Jimmy looked up, doing a double-take at the expression on Tony's face. "Hey, what's wrong?"

"Is he here?" Tony stared at the drawers. "I need to see him."

"Umm, I'm not sure." Jimmy put down the paperwork he was doing for Ducky and stood to meet Tony in the middle of the room. "We've only had one body delivered, but there was a note attached saying it was for Agent Gibbs. I called Dr. Mallard and he just said he'd take care of it when he got here. What's going on?"

"You haven't ID'd the body yet."

"No, the upper half is too badly burned, so are the hands. We'll have to make a DNA match. Tony how did you know that?" Jimmy was getting nervous as DiNozzo started opening drawers. "He's here, Tony, in this drawer." He opened the drawer in question and pulled out the body, but didn't remove the sheet. "Do you think you know who this is?"

Tony ignored the question. "Cause of death?"

"We haven't done the..." He wasn't given a chance to finish.

"Make an educated guess, Palmer."

Out of his element, Jimmy automatically fell back on brute honesty. "I'd guess massive blood loss. His genitals seem to have been ripped off of him and... and..."

"Raped?" The question was whispered so quietly, Palmer almost missed it.

"Yeah, they literally tore him apart. I've never seen anything like it. Tony, why was this body sent to Agent Gibbs? Is this somebody that Gibbs knows?"

Tony's face twisted in grief. "Yeah, it's... it's...

"Not him." Both men looked up as Gibbs came up behind them. "It's not him, Tony, it's Stephenson. Palmer, take a break."

Recognizing the dismissal, Palmer slid the body back in and closed the drawer before leaving while Tony continued to stare at the spot where the body had been. Gibbs waited for him.

"McGee's alive?"

"Yeah, Tony, he's alive."

"But... but I heard Abby tell you... Nineteen..."

As much as McGee did not want more people than necessary to know what had happened to him, Gibbs knew the younger man would not want his partner to tear himself up with guilt. "He's had a rough time, but he kept his wits and managed to escape. Stephenson was the one that kidnapped him to be murdered and they turned on him when McGee got away.

"He's all right?"

"Physically, he'll recover."

What Gibbs wasn't saying was apparent, but understandable. Tony tried to imagine himself in Tim's place and was immediately overwhelmed. "What hospital is he at, can I see him?"

"Maybe in a few days."

Tony struggled to put what he was feeling into words as he paced the sterile room. "But... but I need to see him, Boss. I need to tell him I'm sorry."

"Not your fault, Tony. All the blame lies with Stephenson. Just be glad McGee got out alive and give him time. He's not ready to see people." When Tony looked like he wanted to argue, Gibbs pressed the situation a little bit more. "He hasn't even seen Abby yet and he's barely tolerating Ducky checking his injuries. Just give him time."

"Yeah, yeah, okay." Tony slowed down, stopping in the middle of the room to lean against one of the tables as he rubbed his face. "I have patience, I do. It's just hard to relax until I've seen for myself that he's all right. The idea that he had to face an attack like that, alone, it's just hard to imagine."

"He wasn't alone. Trent Kort risked his life and his cover to help McGee escape."

Tony's eyes went wide. "Kort? Kort saved McGee's life?"

"Yep."

"Well, damn, I guess I have to forgive him for my car, now."

"Ya think, DiNozzo?"


	5. Chapter 5

a/n - Reminder, I'm going to be upping the ratings pretty soon, so be sure to check the M rated fics or sign up for alerts. Glad you guys are liking this one.

* * *

While Gibbs stayed behind in Autopsy to review the preliminary findings with Palmer, Tony made it as far as Abby's lab. Standing in the doorway, he watched her wipe at her face repeatedly as she worked. "You okay, Abs?"

She jumped, but didn't turn to look at him. "Hey, Tony, I'm fine. I'm just a little bummed because... because I just broke up with a guy."

Tony had to smile at her awkward attempt to lie about what was wrong. "I know, Abby. I know what happened to McGee."

Silence, then she turned and finally looked at him, her chin trembling even as she bit down on her lower lip. Tony didn't wait, he moved close and wrapped his arms around her, relishing the chance to give and receive comfort.

"They hurt him, Tony. They hurt McGee." Abby clung to Tony as the words finally bubbled out. "He fought so hard to get away and they just kept hurting him. They tore at him and they bit him and..."

"They bit him?"

"Some of those bites are going to scar. You know how self-conscious McGee is, what is it going to do to him to see those marks for the rest of his life?"

Tony's head was reeling. "Some? How many..." Her head shook, rubbing her face against his shoulder. He knew there was going to be mascara on his suit jacket but he couldn't bring himself to care.

"I can't look at the pictures long enough to count them all."

"Abby, I need you to do something for me." Tony grasped her arms and pulled her away far enough that he could look her in the eye. "It's important, Abs. When you ID those bastards, Gibbs is going to go after them. I need you to tell me, too, so I can watch his six. Promise me, Abby."

He watched as she processed the question, but eventually she nodded. "I promise."

-NCIS-

Jimmy waited in one of the storage rooms, straightening boxes until he heard the elevator leave. Cautiously, he approached Autopsy only to find Gibbs waiting for him. "Umm, Agent Gibbs... is Tony all right? I mean, why would he think that McGee... he's not, is he?"

Over the years, Gibbs had gotten pretty good at deciphering Palmerisms, not that he would ever admit it. "McGee will be fine, Palmer. Tell me about this body."

"Dr. Mallard hasn't done the autopsy yet."

"Anything obvious?"

Suddenly nervous, Palmer adjusted his glasses before opening the drawer again. "Like I told Tony, I think this guy died of massive blood loss. His genitals... they were ripped off his body, but I don't know if that was before or after he died. It was the rape itself that caused the blood loss. They... umm... they used..."

"Just spit it out, Palmer. By now I think I've seen it all."

Instead of trying to describe it, Palmer just pulled the sheet off the body. It took a few seconds to look past the mangled flesh on the lower abdomen to see the handle of a bloody baseball bat between the victim's legs. Gibbs closed his eyes for a second as Palmer covered the body. When he opened them again, Jimmy looked very young and very unsure.

"Is McGee really all right?"

"He will be, Jimmy."

-NCIS-

Leaving Abby to her work, Tony returned upstairs, quietly sitting down at his desk. Ziva heard the squeak of his chair and started questioning him before looking up. "Did Abby answer your questions? McGee still has not arrived."

Tony didn't react at all as he sat down and opened the first file he touched, not noticing the words he was staring at. His mind, along with his stomach, was churning with the knowledge of what had happened to McGee, limited as it was. His imagination was rapidly filling in the blanks and he closed his eyes in a futile attempt to block out the images, still unaware of his audience.

She'd seen Tony in a number of situations, but never in such obvious raw pain. Not even the debacle with Jeanne had left him so apparently devastated. Eventually, she got up and joined him, sitting on the corner of his desk. "What is wrong, Tony? Has something happened to McGee?"

"Aren't there enough files on your own desk, Officer David?" She jumped at Gibbs' voice, not having noticed the arrival of the elevator, but Tony didn't even flinch. His lack of reaction clenched it for her and she moved to stand in front of Gibbs.

"Something has happened to McGee, yes? He is our partner, Gibbs, how can we help if we do not know what has happened?"

Gibbs stared at both of them, knowing that at some point they would need to know what Stephenson had done. More than that, they needed to work through their anger before they could see McGee. He, at least, had the ability to focus his energy on caring for the injured man, an option that would not be available to the others. His brief phone call to Ducky had proved that, as even the doctor had not been able to touch Tim without Gibbs' presence.

"My office, both of you." Decision made, he didn't look back to see if they were following him.

-NCIS-

Tim opened his eyes at the first knock, but he didn't speak out until the request for entrance had been made twice. "Yeah, sure."

Kort opened the door slowly, leaving it open as he sat in the chair. He made no effort to touch McGee or to get close to him. "Dr. Mallard is fixing you some breakfast. I hope you don't mind tea, he seems to think it's better for you than coffee."

A ghost of a smile crossed Tim's face. "It won't be as sweet as it was the other night, will it?"

"Not as long as you promise to eat your food." After a moment, Kort turned serious. "How are you feeling?"

The weave of the sheet became very interesting as Tim stared at his bedding. "I'm not sure."

"Fair enough." Kort leaned back in the chair, willing to wait.

"Why do people do that?" Tim didn't even realize he was speaking until the question popped out, but Kort had been expecting it.

"It was different from the scene you witnessed with Miss Sciuto?"

Tim nodded slowly as he thought back. "What Abby showed me was control, but really it was about trust. You could tell that the subs totally trusted their masters to not do more than they could handle, even if it scared them."

"That's the way it should be. A good dom takes care of his, or her, subs." Kort waited again, watching as McGee processed the information. He had a pretty good idea what the pretty goth had planned when she introduced McGee to a scene.

Tim was conflicted. He had found the scene exciting, just as Abby had promised, but he'd been unable to let go enough to allow her that much control. It had been the death blow to their final attempt to resurrect their relationship. He finally nodded.

Kort saw the moment understanding was reached on the expressive face. "Everything in the world can be perverted in some way, that club is just one of the most extreme. It's been borderline since I started working the case, but this last year they've been getting more and more violent."

"They really killed their last..." He didn't have a clue how to describe the position he'd found himself in.

"Yeah, they did. I wouldn't participate, but there was nothing I could do to save him."

"But you saved me."

"You fought back, made it easy." There was also the fact that he had a soft spot for anyone that could hold their own with Gibbs and put up with DiNozzo, but that was beside the point.

The young man was well aware of the risks Kort took, even if neither of them verbalized it.

Kort stood as Ducky came in with the tray of food. "I'll leave you to Dr. Mallard and your breakfast."

Tim waited until he was almost to the door. "Kort?" The other man turned back towards him. "Thank you."

-NCIS-

Gibbs flipped the switch to stop the elevator, but didn't speak right away. Just as Ziva was starting to lose patience, Tony started with his encounter. "The last night we worked, Stephenson from the FBI came here and tried to talk me into going undercover with him. He claimed that Gibbs had authorized it, but when I said I was going to double check with the Boss, he took off."

"And?" Ziva wasn't sure what that had to do with McGee and turned back to Gibbs. Rubbing his forehead, Gibbs picked up the narrative. There was no really easy way to tell the details.

"Stephenson didn't want someone to go undercover with him. He was trying to break into the inner circle of a group and wanted a victim to give them as a gift."

"A victim as a gift? I do not understand." She looked back and forth between the two men.

Gibbs hated this as he watched Tony pale. "It was a hardcore S&M club, Ziva. They... got off on causing pain, especially with men that weren't participating willingly."

She was starting to put the pieces together. "You are talking about rape. If they were not willingly participating, why was it not it shut down before this?"

"No survivors before now, Ziva. The club's a front for a group of illegal arms dealers and Trent Kort was there undercover. He helped McGee escape before they could kill him."

"When are we arresting Stephenson?"

Tony and Gibbs exchanged a look before Gibbs answered her. "No need. He's already downstairs."

"Good." She reached for the emergency switch, but Tony grabbed her arm before she could restart the elevator.

"He's in Autopsy, Ziva. The men he gave McGee to... they turned on Stephenson after McGee escaped."

Ziva was furious. "He got off too easy."

"There was nothing easy about it, Ziva." Tony was still nauseous over how Stephenson and the earlier John Doe met their end. One question still hadn't been answered. "Boss, how is Tim? How badly did they..."

"He's alive, Tony. That's what you need to concentrate on."

Gibbs could tell him that a thousand times and it still wouldn't be enough. "Abby said some of the... the bites were bad enough to scar."

"Bites?" Ziva's eyes widened as she listened.

The older man hesitated and Tony pressed his advantage. "We need to see him, Boss. We need to see for ourselves that he's going to be all right."

Hands on hips, Gibbs dropped his head as he sighed. "Work on paperwork until 1800, then bring dinner for seven to my place. Tell Abby, I'll let Ducky know." Gibbs turned the elevator back on to take him to the main level. "If he's not ready to visitors, I won't push him."

Nodding in agreement, Tony was adding the numbers in his head. The team, Abby and Ducky, "Hey Boss, who's the seventh?"

Gibbs stepped off the elevator. "Kort."

Once the elevator door closed, Ziva looked at Tony in surprise. "Kort?"

"We owe him, Ziva. Better get used to it."


	6. Chapter 6

"He asleep already?" It hadn't been that long since Ducky had taken the tray up to Tim. Kort watched as the older man carried the dishes to the sink. McGee hadn't eaten very much, but it wasn't that much of a surprise.

"Not yet, but with any luck, he will fall asleep and rest until Jethro returns." Ducky finished with the dishes and turned, leaning his hip against the edge of the counter. "In the meantime, we need to deal with maintaining your cover, Mr. Kort. Despite Jethro's feeling on the matter, we both know that allowing a prize sub to be injured in such a manner requires punishment."

"You offering?" Kort wasn't sure how he felt about it.

"Is there someone else that you trust enough to protect your cover?" They both knew there wasn't and Ducky pointed to the basement door. "I don't want to risk Timothy hearing this, I will join you in a moment." After Kort disappeared down the stairs, Ducky went out to his car. By the time he joined the other man downstairs, Kort had stripped off his shirt and was braced against the shell of the boat.

Kort couldn't quite hide his nervousness. His entire cover was based on the idea that there was only one man he'd bend over for – the mysterious master he claimed to share with McGee. Switches were rare in the scene, but he'd made it work and escaped giving or receiving any real physical damage up until now. When the footsteps came closer, his hands instinctively tightened around the wooden frame.

"Really, Mr. Kort, you'd think you'd never been on the receiving end of a punishment before." Ducky trailed the end of the leather whip across Kort's shoulders, watching him flinch. "I guarantee you, I haven't lost my touch."

Shock, more than pain, registered with the first two hits. The third strike found his nerve ending reporting in. Kort grunted as his hands clamped down harder in response.

"Tell me, Mr. Kort, how many would your cover be able to take?" Kort didn't answer and Ducky laid two more stripes across his back. "I asked you a question, boy."

"Ten, he'd take ten."

Two more brought it up to seven. "Ten, what?"

It took a few frantic moments before Kort realized what Ducky meant. By then he was up to nine. "Ten, sir, he'd take ten, sir." His delay cost him several more hits and he couldn't hold back the sob as the last blow burned across his back.

Ducky silently rolled up his whip after wiping it down with a disinfectant. He'd need to properly clean it once he returned home, but that would do for now. As he worked, he studied the marks on Kort's back. Currently right red, but not bleeding, they would be visible for some time, but not leave any scarring once they healed. He was right, he hadn't lost his touch at all. Satisfied, Ducky reached for his bag. "Stay still, Mr. Kort. The marks may have to be visible, but there is no need to suffer needlessly."

Kort knew better than to turn and look, but whatever the good doctor was using quickly numbed his back. "Sir, thank you, sir." He refused to think about how easily he'd slipped into the role of a contrite sub.

"Take all the time that you need. I will see you upstairs when you're ready." Ducky made no attempt to touch him before leaving the basement. Kort didn't relax until the door into the kitchen closed. Shaking, he rested his forehead against the boat frame as he caught his breath. He listened as footsteps crossed the kitchen to the outside door. Turning to watch through the narrow windows, he could see Ducky's feet as he returned his bag to the boot of his Morgan. Kort paced, forcing himself to calm down and get the mask back in place before Gibbs arrived back home.

-NCIS-

"Hey, guys." Abby gave a forced smile as Tony and Ziva entered the lab and locked the door behind them.

Tony didn't beat around the bush. "Abby, we need to see the evidence photos of McGee." When she hesitated, he pushed her. "Abs, Ziva and I are hoping to see McGee tonight when we're all there for dinner, and I know you are, too." A slight nod proved he was right. "If we take one look at him and fall apart, it's going to hurt him even more, so let us see them and get our anger out of the way now, okay?"

Abby pulled up the screen she had minimized and handed Tony the remote even as she shook her head. "It won't help, I've been trying since Gibbs gave me the evidence." Tony didn't answer her as he slowly clicked through the images.

They went through the pictures twice before Abby reached across Tony and minimized the screen again. It was Ziva that finally broke the silence. "I think I will go to the gym for a while. I need to hit something... a lot."

"Yeah," Tony's hand was shaking when he ran it through his hair. "Yeah, that sounds like a good idea."

-NCIS-

Gibbs arrived home, walking into the kitchen with a bag of groceries just as Kort came through the basement door. He noticed how stiffly the other man was walking, but Kort was silent as he walked past Gibbs and out into the backyard. He turned to Ducky, who was brewing a cup of tea. "Problem?"

"No, Jethro, everything's fine now." After reviewing most of the morning's events with Gibbs, Ducky returned to the Yard to begin the autopsy on Stephenson while Gibbs poured two cups of coffee and headed upstairs.

"Hey, McGee, Ducky said you didn't get much sleep while I was gone." Gibbs steadied him as the younger man carefully sat up and took the offered cup.

Tim stared at the steam coming off the cup. "Not that tired, I guess."

"You want to try that again?" Gibbs stopped just short of telling him that a blind man could see how exhausted he still was.

"I just couldn't relax enough, even with the pills. You... you're not leaving again, are you?" Bright green eyes finally looked up at him, filled with fear and need as Tim set the coffee on the nightstand.

"No, I'm not going anywhere else." Gibbs sat on the bed, leaning against the headboard, and pulled Tim against him so that his back rested against Gibbs' chest. "You're safe now, it's over."

"Is it? Stephenson is sill out there, those guys are still out there and I feel..."

"Hey, it's okay to be a little overwhelmed right now, just take it one thing at a time. First thing is that Stephenson can never touch you again."

"Boss, do you really believe that he's going to just roll over and take a guilty plea? Even if the FBI is more interested in protecting their image, can they really force him to fall on his own sword?"

Gibbs loosely wrapped his arms around McGee's waist. "Tim, Stephenson is dead." The younger man instantly stilled.

"How?" When Gibbs didn't answer right away, he pushed, needing to know. "Who killed him? I need to know."

"He didn't make it out of the club alive."

"Because I escaped."

Gibbs didn't have to look at Tim's face to know that he was shutting down, feeling the guilt that truly belonged to the other man entirely. "It was his own fault, McGee, besides he signed his own death warrant the moment he laid a hand on you – hell, the moment he went after my team."

Tim stiffened and turned enough to look Gibbs in the eye. "Who else?"

Gibbs wanted to kick himself. He hadn't planned on letting McGee know about Stephenson's other attempt. "No one else was hurt."

"But he tried? I have a right to know, Boss." Even as battered and traumatized as he was, McGee's stubborn streak was alive and well.

"He made a very sloppy attempt to trick Tony into going into the club before he went after you."

"And unlike me, Tony was smart enough to figure it out." Tim tried to pull away, but Gibbs tightened his grip.

"No. Like I said, Stephenson was sloppy. He came to the Navy Yard and asked Tony to go undercover alone for him, that I had approved it."

"Alone, without the team, and for the FBI? You never would have authorized that." Tim made the same conclusion that Tony had, so Gibbs encouraged it.

"Exactly, and I was still in the building, so when Tony offered to bring me in on the discussion, Stephenson backed off and left."

"And knew he had to come up with something more elaborate for his next target." Tim quieted as he worked through what he'd learned. "His ruse was mostly to get me somewhere with no witnesses, wasn't it? He would have attacked me at my apartment building if I hadn't gone with him."

"Probably, and he was a fellow agent so you had no reason to suspect his motives. Now, there's something else we need to talk about." Gibbs wished he'd put the team off for another day. "With the questions about what Stephenson was up to, and his body now down in Autopsy..."

"You told them?"

"They're investigators, Tim." Gibbs waited and watched McGee struggle with the realization that his teammates knew. "They're worried and the guilt is tearing Tony apart. Abby has been staring at the evidence for two days now without seeing you or giving you a hug. I haven't told them any details, because that's your choice to make, but they need to see you, to know that you're really still alive and going to be all right."

"When?"

"They're bringing dinner tonight. How about you coming downstairs and joining us for a few minutes?" Gibbs waited while Tim obviously thought about it. He wouldn't push, not yet, but knew it would be an important step in McGee's recovery in addition to helping the rest of the team cope.

"I'll try."

"That's my boy." Pleased, Gibbs helped Tim lay down and pulled the blankets up around him before kicking off his own shoes and stretching out on top of the bedding. Tucked against Gibbs, Tim was asleep within moments and Gibbs quickly joined him, enjoying how easily their bodies fit together.


	7. Chapter 7

**a/n - That wasn't too long of a wait was it? After this chapter's been up for a day or two, I'm changing the rating to an "M" because we're just abot at the end of what I would consider all right for a lower rating. You've been warned :) I'm also changing things to only accept signed in reviewers. Sorry about that, but I'm really done playing with the troll. However, you might enjoy the new gen story that I'll start posting on Monday. I know you'll enjoy the villain.**

* * *

Voices downstairs woke Gibbs, but he didn't move, allowing McGee to continue sleeping. Familiar footsteps came close before Ducky spoke. "They're about twenty minutes behind me, Jethro."

That woke Tim and he shifted back off of Gibbs' shoulder. "Sorry, Boss."

Gibbs didn't let him move very far. "Hey, does that help you sleep?" Tim didn't say anything and he didn't look up, but there was a slight nod. Gibbs gently cupped the back of his head. "Then that's the way we sleep. Now, do you want to take a shower before they get here?" Another nod, this one a little stronger and Gibbs helped him out of the bed. At some point during the day, McGee had put on a pair of boxers and once inside the bathroom he shed them before climbing into the shower. He seemed to need the grounding presence of the older man, so Gibbs stayed in the bathroom where McGee could see him.

It wasn't until McGee tried to raise his arms up to wash his hair that he ran into trouble, the hours he'd spent chained leaving his muscles too stiff to move that much.

"Let me do that." Without a second thought, Gibbs pulled off his shirt before taking the shampoo from McGee. He worked the shampoo into Tim's hair, momentarily losing himself in the sensation of running his hands through the fine hair. He watched McGee visibly relax from the scalp massage, so when it was time to rinse, Gibbs didn't say anything, just turned him with a slight pressure on his shoulders. He cupped the side of Tim's head with one hand as he tilted his head back and with the other hand he made sure that all the lather was rinsed away. Next he switched to the body wash and carefully started with Tim's face, working his way down. From his waist, Gibbs moved down to Tim's feet, kneeling down on the wet tile, and working the suds up his legs. Once he reached Tim's groin, Gibbs stood and watched Tim's face carefully.

Tim's eyes had been closed but when Gibbs moved closer, they opened. Never breaking eye contact. Gibbs slowly and methodically washed every inch of Tim's private areas, ignoring how soaked his own jeans were becoming. When Tim's breath deepened and his shaft began to thicken, Gibbs gave him an encouraging smile.

"That's good, Tim. That's real good. I was worried that they'd caused internal damage. Does it hurt?" As he asked, he ran his thumb around the glans and then over the tip before sliding his hand down to shaft to cradle his scrotum.

"My..." Tim swallowed hard. "My balls still ache. They twisted them really hard, Boss."

Gibbs lifted his hand slightly. "Does the support help?"

"Yeah." Breathless, his answer was almost felt more than heard and Gibbs kept the palm of his hand still even as his fingers tenderly stroked the healing flesh behind them. With his other hand he reached up and turned off the water.

"Let's get dried off."

Voices could be heard downstairs as Gibbs dried Tim's body before peeling off his own wet jeans and socks. His boxers were reasonably dry, so he left them on, not wanting to be naked in front of McGee. A quick dig through his dresser found a jock strap and he helped Tim step into it. The sounds from downstairs were increasing, causing Tim to withdraw, so Gibbs carefully adjusted the jock. His fingers traced each strap, making sure they were exactly placed, before holding out a pair of sweatpants. When given the choice between a t-shirt and a long sleeved sweatshirt, Tim opted for the coverage, despite the warm temperature in the house.

-NCIS-

Kort's plans to slip away to the basement were thwarted when Tony blocked his path. "Hey, hope you like Chinese. We didn't know what was your favorite, so we got extra of our usual order plus both egg rolls and spring rolls."

"You don't have to feed me, DiNozzo."

"Perhaps not, but we do owe you a great deal." The feminine voice caused them both to turn. Ziva joined them, kissing Kort on the cheek. "We can never thank you enough, the least we can do is buy you dinner."

"Yeah, man, if Stephenson had been successful... let's just say I'm really glad we didn't have to find out what would have happened." As Tony shook his hand, the sound of heavy boots could be heard approaching.

Kort flinched, his back starting to sting as the numbing agent wore off. "She's not going to hug me again, is she?"

Grinning, Tony moved to intercept the excitable Goth. "Nah, we'll protect you. It's the least we can do."

-NCIS-

Gibbs quickly pulled on the unused t-shirt along with a dry pair of jeans before taking McGee's hand and coaxing him down the stairs. He was trembling by the time Gibbs had him downstairs, but the rest of the team chalked it up to his injuries.

"Here, McGee, you should sit down." Abby was patting a chair, but Gibbs could feel Tim tense up.

"Maybe the couch? Would that be more comfortable, McGee?" Gibbs took him to the sofa and sat next to him. It was apparent to Tony that McGee was using Gibbs as a buffer and he tugged Abby back enough to slow her down.

Abby realized her mistake almost immediately and she quickly backed off, handing over a blanket to cover her movements. "Are you warm enough?"

"Thanks, Abs." Tim took the offering, left over from Kort's nights on the sofa, grateful for the extra layer of protection.

Despite her best intentions, she found herself leaning forward. "We brought Chinese food for dinner and plenty of it. Is Gibbs feeding you enough? You need more than just coffee and..."

Gibbs cut her off with a smirk. "I'm right here, Abby, you know, and I'm quite capable of fixing more than just coffee."

"Absolutely, he warmed up soup last night."

Thrilled to see even a weak attempt at a joke, Gibbs played along. "Hey, I even poured it into a bowl for you. Not everybody gets that."

"And tonight we get plates." Ziva came out from the kitchen with a stack of dishes and silverware, Ducky following behind with the box of cartons, Kort with drinks.

"Hey, Boss, I didn't even know you had that many plates." Tony's joke was strained, but he was happy to see the ghost of a smile from his Probie when Tony received the expected head slap.

The cartons were set out for people to serve themselves, but Ziva filled plates for McGee and Gibbs along with silverware. "Your wrists are probably too sore for chopsticks, McGee."

Tim froze at the comment, realizing that they had probably seen the photos of his injuries. Suddenly even more self-conscious he pulled his sleeves down further before he began picking at his food.

Watching him work around several large chunks of meat, Gibbs reached over with his own fork and broke them in half. He knew Ziva had meant well, but McGee didn't need the reminder of just how much they knew about what had happened. The silence was strained, but just as Abby was winding up to start asking questions, Kort sidetracked her with his own questions about his people's handling of the two vehicles. Given a chance to discuss the technical aspects of the case, Abby was easily distracted.

For his part, Tony tried to act casual as he watched McGee. The younger man glanced over at the wall clock every few minutes and Tony could tell he'd set himself a goal as to how long he could handle being downstairs and surrounded by people. "It's okay, Tim." When McGee looked at him, Tony explained. "Being down here, surrounded by all of us, it's too much, too soon. We just needed to see you for ourselves, even if it was for just for a minute, and it's okay if you need to go back upstairs."

Tim nodded as he poked at his food. "In my head I know you guys aren't going to hurt me..."

"But the rest of you hasn't caught up yet?"

"It's stupid stuff." Tim tried to answer DiNozzo's question. "Hearing all your footsteps... One of them wore all these chains that rattled and kind of sounded like Ziva's key ring. One of them wore the same cologne you wear. One of them had eaten sweet and sour earlier because I could still smell it on his breath."

A glance at Tim's plate showed the sweet and sour pork carefully scooted to one side, and Tony groaned at the inadvertent reminders their visit had brought. "Damn, Tim, I'm sorry. We're all sorry."

"No, it's not you guys, it's me. I can't go through the rest of my life expecting everyone to not clomp around or not listen to the music they had playing, or not wear a cologne."

"Maybe not, but that doesn't mean you have to deal with it all tonight either. You haven't even hit the forty-eight hour mark, have you?"

"I guess not."

Tony gave him a sad smile. "In the meantime, we're your friends and if not stomping around in heavy boots and not wearing a certain cologne helps you cope, then it's something we're willing to do. Okay?" Behind him, Abby and Ziva looked equally heartbroken at the thought that they even remotely reminded McGee of what happened.

"I'm sorry."

"Yeah, me too. Especially since if I'd been more on the ball that night, maybe I could have stopped this whole thing from happening."

"No." Tim glanced at Gibbs, remembering their earlier conversation. "No, he was too committed. I barely questioned him and he me hit over the head the second my back was turned. Besides," Tim shrugged slightly as he confessed. "In a way, you helped saved my life that night."

"How... how do you figure that, Probie?"

Tim stared at his hands, unable to look any of them in the face. "When I woke up naked and hanging from those chains, I knew what they were going to do to me and I knew they sure as hell weren't going to let me go when it was over."

Abby stilled while Ziva swore in Hebrew under her breath. Mouth suddenly dry, Tony rubbed at his jaw as he tried to swallow. After taking a shaky breath, McGee continued as Gibbs rested his hand on his back to help ground him.

"They were punching me and biting me and a couple of them had whips. One of them was claiming first go at me because their last toy died before he got to have him, and then a couple more agreed with him. They said they should be next after him because the last time, the toy had stopped screaming by the time they got their turns."

Another shaky breath and Gibbs wrapped his arm around McGee's shoulders, pulling him closer. "You're doing fine, Tim."

"Anyway... I... I remembered once when we were teasing Tony about always knowing what to say when he was in trouble." Tim finally looked up at DiNozzo. "Do you remember?"

"Yeah, I..." Tony had to clear his throat and try again. "I said that I'd just start mouthing off and eventually the right words would pop out."

"That's what I did. I started talking about how they didn't want to do that, how they were going to regret hurting me and they just laughed and asked who was going to make them regret it. I guess, deep down, I remembered about a club Abby took me to once and I told them my Master would make them wish they'd never laid a hand on me. A couple of them backed off for a second, so I just kept at it. Telling them how my Master would hunt them down and kill them. If they were lucky, they'd never see it coming. They were looking at each other and then one of them asked who my Master was."

"That gave me an opening, and I took it." Kort joined the conversation to fill in the rest. "I've been working the club for about two years, but the CIA has used the cover story of a mysterious master for five or six years. He doesn't lower himself to play at any of the clubs, but he occasionally sends in an underling to conduct business for him."

Putting the pieces together, Tony was able to figure out the rest. "You claimed that McGee belonged to this shadow master."

"Stephenson was pushing too hard and too fast to get into the inner circle, they were already suspicious of him. It was easy to feed on that suspicion, convince them that by giving them Master Gareth's stolen treasure, he was setting them up somehow."

She might not understand the club scene, but Ziva did understand the risk Kort had taken. "If they had not been convinced, you would have suffered the same fate as McGee, yes?"

Kort didn't answer, but he didn't need to. The flicker of unease that crossed his face said it all.

-NCIS-

It was apparent that McGee was almost to the end of his rope, so the team quickly said their goodbyes and left. The three of them had carpooled and Ziva asked to stop at a local home improvement store. Curious, Tony and Abby climbed out of the car to join her, following her to the paint department where she quickly made her choice.

"Dip it? What's that?" Abby picked up another can and started to read the label. "Oh, I remember this stuff now. My dad used to dip the handles of his tools in it to give them a rubber coating. It made them more comfortable to grip."

"In Mossad we use it to coat things we do not want to make noise." Ziva smiled when Tony also picked up a can. "It will not take much to coat the handles of our keys, we can share this can."

Decision made, they returned first to Ziva's apartment. She gathered a handful of clothespins and clipped one one each of her keys, covering the teeth, and then dipped the handle end of each key into the liquid rubber. The clothespin allowed to key to sit above the surface of the table as it dried and a newspaper from the recycle bin caught any drips. Once Ziva's keys were done, Tony and Abby went next to her apartment to repeat the process with Abby's keys.

Tony was the last to arrive home and after he'd finished with his keys, he walked into his bathroom and threw his bottle of cologne in the trash before stripping off his clothes and getting in the shower. He scrubbed until even his imagination could no longer smell the expensive fragrance. That lasted until he went into the bedroom and realized he could smell traces of it on his sheets. Angrily he stripped the bed and took everything down to the basement laundry room of his apartment. Unable to sleep with no bedding, he started on his closet, pulling every garment out and separating them out. The things that needed to be dry cleaned would have to wait until the cleaners opened in the morning, but there were three more empty washers downstairs.

-NCIS-

Gibbs used the excuse of walking Ducky out to ask about the autopsy results, but the medical examiner shook his head. "I'm sorry, Jethro, I wasn't able to start it."

"Why not?"

"Balboa's team caught a murder case this morning. They're already curious about why they have it and not your team. Do you want them to also see Stephenson's body? Carter and Adams were in and out of Autopsy all afternoon."

"Damn it." Gibbs rubbed his forehead, knowing that Ducky had made the right call. Larry Adams was a competent agent, but a horrible gossip.

Ducky patted his arm. "Don't worry, Mr. Palmer's night class will be finished shortly and he's meeting me back aboard the Yard. We'll have the autopsy done and Stephenson tucked away before Adams is even aware that it's morning."

"Thanks, Ducky. Gossip in the agency is the last thing McGee needs to worry about right now." The truth was that he didn't want McGee worrying about anything, and as soon as his old friend was on the road, Gibbs headed back inside to make sure of it.


	8. Chapter 8

**a/n - Not too long, but this is where it wanted to break, and who am I to argue. I've got the next two chapters ready to be posted on the current story for my gen profile and am working on the next chapter of Impressions for this profile. I'll have to spend more time on my Secret Santa fic soon, so that should keep you busy. If you're looking for my other profile, check my favorites :) You'll also notice that I've upped the rating on this story. We're not to the sex yet, but the details are becoming a bit too graphic for a teen rating IMHO.**

* * *

The few moments of privacy he'd been given when Gibbs walked outside with Dr. Mallard were enough for Kort to slip into his leather harness and replace the sweatshirt. Gibbs noticed the added bulk the moment he walked back inside. "You can't be serious."

"Need to keep my cover intact, Gibbs. You know how it works." The smirk was back, but didn't quite match the look in Kort's eyes.

Gibbs felt a certain level of responsibility for the man that had saved Tim's life. "Thought you said they'd expect you to be punished? How do you plan to explain that?"

"It's been taken care of." Kort moved past him, but Gibbs grabbed the shirt, pulling it up enough to see a few of the red stripes across his lower back.

"What the hell..." Gibbs quickly thought back to the short time he was away from the house, when he'd returned from the Yard, Ducky was calmly brewing a pot of tea while Kort was moving very stiffly. His voice raised almost an octave. "Ducky?"

Kort carefully straightened the fabric of the sweatshirt he would wear until he got near the club. "Your people are always full of surprises, Gibbs. If you haven't heard from me by 0900, assume my cover's been blown and get the kid to a safe house."

"Damn it, Kort, there's got to be another way."

"I'm a big boy, Gibbs. I know what I'm doing and this is too important to walk away from. Just keep the kid safe."

"I will." Gibbs knew what a risk Kort was taking. "Keep yourself safe, too."

Kort gave him a sardonic smile and walked out the door. Once he was alone, Gibbs carefully locked every door and window before retrieving his sniper rifle from the hidden drawer in his workbench and heading upstairs.

-NCIS-

"Thank you for coming back in, Mr. Palmer. I understand this makes a very long day for you."

Jimmy blushed slightly as he shrugged. "I know how important this is." He looked around before lowering his voice. "How is McGee doing?"

"As cliche as it sounds, I suppose he is doing as well as can be expected under the circumstances. Physically, he is healing, but the rest will take some time, I'm afraid." Ducky leaned close to study the body. "Well let us see exactly what you had planned for our young man."

Ducky was only a few minutes into the autopsy when Jimmy's eyes widened. "Is that...?"

"Bring the light closer, Mr. Palmer, if you would." With the light angled up into the opened chest cavity, Ducky peered up into the throat, reaching into the trachea with his longest pair of forceps. It took several tugs before the object came loose and Ducky dropped it into the tray that Jimmy held out. "Well, the good news is that we have located one missing body part."

Jimmy felt an almost uncontrollable urge to cross his legs as he stared at the severed penis. "So, where's his scrotum?"

Ducky checked the rest of the trachea before slicing open the esophagus and stomach. "That, Mr. Palmer, is a very good question."

-NCIS-

"Boss?" Sitting on the edge of the bed, Tim looked up in alarm when Gibbs came in not only wearing his SIG, but carrying a rifle.

Gibbs rushed to reassure him. "It's just a precaution, Tim."

"What's different about tonight?"

"Tim..."

"What's happening?"

Gibbs leaned the rifle against the nightstand before sitting next to McGee on the bed, wrapping his arm around Tim's shoulders. "Kort's going back to the club tonight."

McGee immediately knew what that could mean. "If his cover was compromised," Tim glanced over at the rifle, then down at the holster.

"I won't let them touch you." Gibbs pulled him close and cupped his face with his free hand. "No one is laying a hand on you again, I give you my word."

-NCIS-

"Are you all right, Jimmy?"

Not even registering the rare use of his first name, Palmer continued to stare at the body. "Did he choke to death or bleed to death, Dr. Mallard? And if he bled to death, was it from the amputation or the baseball bat?"

Ducky covered the body and pulled off his gloves before steering Palmer to the table, pushing down on his shoulder to encourage him to sit down. Once Palmer was seated, Ducky quickly started a pot of tea, avoiding the question until he was able to pour two cups and join his assistant at the desk. "I haven't seen a body that brutalized since Bosnia. I'm sorry you had to see that at all, my dear lad."

"I keep thinking that could have been Tim."

"Ahh, but it wasn't. Our boy is safe and recovering even as we speak."

"Is he safe? I mean, he knows what they do, what they did. Are they really just going to let him walk away from them?"

Ducky thought about Palmer's questions. "It certainly is not over, but Jethro will keep him safe. Of that I have no doubt. Now, I'm perfectly capable of finishing up on my own, Mr. Palmer. Why don't you head on home?

Jimmy took a deep breath and straightened up. "It's all right, Dr. Mallard, I can do this."

Smiling broadly at his assistant, Ducky leaned close and patted his hand. "That's a good lad."

-NCIS-

Even the Beretta Gibbs sometimes carried as a back-up was too heavy for McGee's damaged wrists, so when he insisted on a weapon, Gibbs pulled out a small Raven .25 auto. He'd bought it years ago for an undercover op, but the small trigger guard was too uncomfortable for his thick fingers. In Tim's long, slender hands, it was a much better fit. The small caliber didn't have a lot of stopping power, but if someone got past Gibbs, it would give McGee another layer of protection.

Logically, Gibbs knew that if Kort was made, they wouldn't move on them tonight, but preparing made him feel much more in control. Now he was sitting up on the bed, his back resting against the headboard. His SIG was out of the holster and tucked underneath his hip, while the Beretta was strapped to his ankle. The Raven was under McGee's pillow, even though the younger man was draped across Gibbs, his face resting on his stomach. One lamp was on and had been moved to the floor to give off the minimum amount of light and the heavy dresser had been dragged in front of the bedroom door. Gibbs knew that no one could get in without a lot of trouble and without making a lot of noise, but he had no intention of sleeping. Instead, he concentrated on the warmth of Tim's breath against his stomach as he slowly stroked his hand up and down the younger man's back.

-NCIS-

"Dude, how long did you wait to do laundry?"

Startled by the voice, Tony looked up as his neighbor dropped a bag of clothes in the middle of the floor while he looked at all the washers currently in use. "Sorry, man, didn't think anybody would be needing them this time of night. Those two should be done soon."

The blonde haired man checked the timer on one of the washers Tony pointed to, then back at the pile of clothes Tony had waiting. "Nah, it's okay, I'll wait until tomorrow. Unlike somebody, I've still got clean clothes." Whistling, he turned and went back upstairs. Tony sighed and checked his watch; it was going to be a long night.

-NCIS-

When his phone vibrated at 0500, Gibbs grabbed it instantly, but answered it cautiously. "Yeah?" The accented voice was calm and steady.

_~In and out, with my cover still intact.~_

"And your operation?"

_~Questionable. By telling them how much control my former master still has over me, I've been weakened in their eyes.~_

"Now what?"

_~Now I wait.~_

Gibbs listened to the dial tone for a moment before closing his phone. Tim had been silent throughout the conversation, but the tenseness in his body told Gibbs that he was awake and listening to every word. "It's okay, Tim, he made it out."

The whispered 'thank God' was barely vocalized, but Gibbs understood. Suddenly exhausted, he set his SIG on the nightstand and scooted down on the bed, rearranging them so that Tim's head was resting on his shoulder.

-NCIS-

Vance arrived at his office at 0700 hoping to do paperwork in peace only to find Fornell waiting for him. "Agent Fornell, isn't it a little early for the FBI to be out and about?" He opened his office door and waited for the other man to follow him in. Before he closed the door, he looked over at his assistant. "Coffee?"

Pamela smiled and nodded. "Already brewing, Sir."

Fornell sat, waiting uncomfortably, while Vance hung up his coat and booted up his computer. Finally the Director turned his attention to his guest. "I assume you're here about Stephenson."

"I was hoping to at least have a copy of the autopsy results by now, Director Vance. I understand why this is a NCIS case, but he was one of my agents." Fornell leaned back, waiting to see how this was going to play out.

There was nothing in his email, so Vance directed the question to his assistant as she walked in, carrying two cups of coffee.

She shook her head. "Dr. Mallard didn't sign out from doing the autopsy until about 0400. He left a voice mail that he and Mr. Palmer wouldn't be in this morning and that the report wouldn't be ready until this afternoon."

"I thought this case was a top priority for your agency."

Vance glared at him before returning his attention to Pamela. "Do we know why there was a delay with the autopsy?"

"Dr. Mallard said that the less people that saw the body, the better."

Fornell wasn't satisfied. "Well, I want to see the body and the evidence you have so far, and I want to talk to Gibbs. Need to know how he's planning on spinning this."


	9. Chapter 9

**a/n - This is the first of eight chapters I have ready to post, two for this story and six for the new one, so it's going to be a busy week. That doesn't count anything I get written while I'm posting. You ready?**

* * *

The phone call from Vance woke them much earlier than Gibbs wanted to see Tim awake, but after listening to his terse explanation as to why they were not available to talk to Fornell, he knew Tim would never go back to sleep.

"Have you talked to Fornell since... since it happened?"

"No." Gibbs picked up the tube of cream, rolling it between his fingers. "He's been stalling the brass over there, but they want details about Stephenson's death."

Tugging the sweatshirt sleeve up, Tim stared at the partially healed marks on his wrists. "They want to talk to me, don't they?"

Gibbs reached out and touched his fingertips to get his attention. "Not until you're ready. Ducky's report and the forensic results will be more than enough to tell them what they need to know."

"You're going in, aren't you?" Anyone that knew Gibbs knew he would want to hear Ducky's report first hand.

"Yeah, I am. I don't think he can hold them off much longer."

Tim chewed on his lip as he stared at the logo on Gibbs' shirt. "He needs a copy of my statement, too."

"Are you sure you're up to it? I can have Vance send a couple of agents here, have them stay downstairs." Gibbs lifted Tim's chin to look him in the eye. "You'd be safe."

"I'd feel safer there with you. Maybe I could use Abby's computer to type up my statement?"

"That's my boy." The calloused hand moved to cup Tim's cheek. "You take your time and don't push yourself too much. Fornell will wait as long as it takes for you to give your statement." Seeing the determination back in the younger man's eyes, Gibbs didn't argue about it, instead focusing on taking care of his wrists. This time, after slathering on a thick layer of the cream, Gibbs carefully wrapped the damaged skin with gauze to provide ample protection. For support he pulled two elastic wraps out of the first aid kit, treating each wrist as if it had been sprained.

It was when Gibbs reached for a clean sweatshirt that McGee balked, knowing that such casual attire would attract attention to himself and thus to his injuries. Gibbs nodded and turned to his closet. Finding a baggy sweater he'd never worn to work and his softest pair of jeans, he gently helped Tim dress.

McGee looked down as his body with a slight smile. "Now I look more like an accident victim and less like a... less like an assault victim."

-NCIS-

Ziva looked up as Tony came in. "You are late." Anyone else in the bullpen would not have been surprised by her comment, but they would have been surprised by the undertone of worry.

Dressed casually in jeans and a pullover, Tony dropped his backpack under his desk. "Yeah, well, I had to drop off my dry cleaning this morning – a lot of dry cleaning." He gave her a slight shrug and she nodded back in understanding.

"I'm sure they appreciate the business."

Anything else they might have said stopped when Adams walked through. "Hey, you guys know what's up with Abby? She's playing jazz this morning, and wearing tennis shoes."

Ziva and Tony exchanged a quick glance before Tony spoke. "Probably means she's in a bad mood, Larry. You might want to stay away from her." While Tony grinned at Adams, Ziva sent off a quick email to Abby, giving her a head's up. Ziva almost felt sorry for the man, but she remembered that he tended not to wash his hands before leaving the restroom and considered it payback for her disgust.

-NCIS-

"McGee." Abby squealed and vibrated with excitement, but she didn't charge at him, earning a smile of relief from Tim and a smile of pride from Gibbs.

"Hey, Abs, not quite ready to be upstairs, so I was hoping to use your computer to write up my statement."

Knowing what was wrong, Abby observed how nervous and stressed he seemed to be. It was confirmed when Gibbs wrapped an arm around his shoulders and pulled him close, speaking softly, as Tim melted against him.

"Just do what you feel up to dealing with, Tim. If Fornell's got a beef with that, he can come talk to me."

"Why don't you use the computer in my office, McGee? That way you can use the remote to keep the door locked so you don't have to talk to anyone if you don't want to."

"Thanks, Abby. That would really help." Obviously relieved, McGee pulled away from Gibbs. "Umm, is there anything you need out of there, first?"

Her lunch was in the fridge and she had plenty of change for a Caf-Pow! break. "Nope, go make yourself at home, Timmy."

Gibbs waited until McGee was settled at the desk and had aimed the remote at the sliding door, sealing himself inside. "Thanks, Abs. Call me if either of you need something, okay?" He turned and walked out, pointing at a fresh Caf-Pow! next to her lunch box.

"How does he do that?"

-NCIS-

"You going to sit in my outer office all day?" Leon glared at the man making himself at home across from Pamela's desk.

Fornell just shrugged as he stretched out his legs. "I know Gibbs, he'll be here eventually. Hey, speak of the devil, look who's here."

Gibbs just rolled his eyes as he walked through the door. "Tobias, we'd been here earlier if you'd brought us coffee."

"We? Does that mean the kid's with you?" While Fornell waited for an answer, Pamela's phone rang.

Gibbs looked at Fornell before turning to Vance. "McGee is in a secure room, preparing his formal statement."

Before Vance could say anything, Pamela ended her call. "Dr. Mallard just arrived, Sir. He's down in Autopsy."

Vance swept his hand toward the door and followed the two men downstairs.

-NCIS-

Ducky was still hanging up his coat when the three men walked in. "Ah, Director Vance, you did get my message that the official report won't be ready until this afternoon?"

"That's quite alright, Dr. Mallard. Just an overview is fine for now. Agent Fornell wishes to see the body for himself."

"I see, very well." Ducky exchanged a look with Gibbs before opening one of the doors on the wall and sliding out the drawer. "Agent Fornell, do try to not vomit all over my clean floors." When he pulled the sheet down, Fornell turned with a curse and even Vance closed his eyes for a moment.

"As you can tell, the body has suffered extreme abuse, which resulted in Agent Stephenson's death. While the genital amputation caused massive blood loss, I believe the primary cause of death were the ruptures to his rectal wall, along with the perforated intestine and colon."

Fornell was trying to look anywhere but at the body. "What did they use?"

"A baseball bat. It was still buried in the body when he was recovered. Since the manner of death is similar to the John Doe that's been linked to the same group, I sent the bat up to Abby. Perhaps she can find John Doe's DNA on that item as well."

"You found DNA from another victim?"

"Yes, Agent Fornell, Timothy fought his captors hard enough that there was DNA transfer from the restraints they had him bound with."

"Any sign of the missing body parts?" Vance couldn't stop the shudder as he asked.

Ducky picked up a larger evidence jar that had been hidden under the folds of the sheet. "This was found lodged in his throat, but I'm afraid the scrotal sack has yet to be located."

Fornell looked close to losing it. "Please tell me he was already dead."

"There were signs of choking, but with the blood loss from the two major injuries, I don't believe he lasted very long."

Gibbs had been silent throughout the entire conversation, but the fury on his face was easy to recognize. Now that he'd seen the condition of the body, Vance understood the anger as he turned to Gibbs. "Stephenson planned on this happening to McGee, didn't he?"

"Yeah, he did." Gibbs gave one last look to the body before turning his attention to Ducky. "Appreciate you pulling an all nigher to process the body without anyone else around."

Ducky carefully replaced the sheet and tucked the body away. "Yes, well, that is scuttlebutt that neither agency needed to deal with. Agent Fornell, I assume you will want to be copied on all the findings?"

Still looking a little green, Tobias nodded as he rubbed his mouth.

Silently pleased to see how nauseous the body appeared to make Fornell, Gibbs crooked his finger as he led the parade out the door and down to the lab. McGee was still studiously working at the computer and after a glare to let Fornell know the man was off-limits, Gibbs brought them over to Abby.

It took Fornell and Vance a few minutes to realize why she seemed much shorter, but Gibbs just kissed her cheek in thanks. Smiling, she started walking them through the evidence from the FBI's sedan and their surveillance van. It took almost an hour, but by the time she was finished, there was no doubt in Fornell's mind that Stephenson was solely responsible for what had happened to McGee and had ultimately triggered his own demise.

Reviewing the evidence taken from Greg Stephenson's body was much harder, even Gibbs needed a moment after they saw the hammer marks on the end of the bat removed from the body. With a sad look at her friend, through the glass wall, Abby moved onto the photos and the evidence recovered from McGee the night he was attacked. Gibbs already knew the highlights, but Vance and Fornell finally understood the team's almost obsessive need to protect him.

Just as Abby was diagramming how the evidence fit the previous John Doe case, her email alert chimed. When she saw who it was from, she clicked the message before quietly reporting her findings. "McGee has finished his victim's statement."

"Print two copies please, Ms Sciuto."

Abby glanced at Gibbs before following the Director's instructions.

Fornell didn't have to look up to know that Gibbs was staring at him. "Don't worry, Jethro, I'll keep it under lock and key. No one will see it that's not absolutely necessary."

"That had better be a damn short list, Tobias."

-NCIS-

Fornell and Vance had left and Abby quietly slipped out behind them to leave Gibbs alone in the lab. Only then did he move toward the office door. It wasn't until he was close enough to touch the door that Tim pressed the remote and unlocked it. He looked tired and drained, his hands shaking slightly and Gibbs made an immediate decision. "Come on, let's go home."

With McGee tucked tightly against him, Gibbs went straight out to the car, not even calling Vance until they were on the road. He didn't have to ask if Vance was reading McGee's report; the sorrowful order to take care of the young man told him everything he needed to know.

Gibbs didn't want anyone underfoot, not even a deliveryman, and he didn't feel like cooking, so he detoured through a local burger joint's drive-through window, ordering two of their namesake specials without even asking McGee. For his part, McGee kept his eyes closed during the drive as he struggled to remain calm.

"Hey." After setting the bag between the seats, Gibbs reached out and squeezed McGee's hand. "I know today was rough, but I'm proud of the way you stuck it out."

Tim rolled his head to the side and gave Gibbs a weak smile. "Thanks. Right now I can't imagine telling anybody else about what happened that night, but I thought if I could get it all down on my report..."

"And that report is all any agency needs to hear from you. Vance will back us on that and after seeing all the evidence against Stephenson today, Fornell knows better than to argue."

Neither man spoke again, but it was a comfortable silence that followed them inside as Gibbs grabbed two beers from the refrigerator.

After dinner, Gibbs was just about to suggest that McGee come downstairs and watch him sand, when Kort pulled into the driveway. Instead, Gibbs pulled Tim to his feet and turned him toward the other set of stairs. "Go on upstairs, Tim. I'll be up as soon as I find out what Kort wants."

As soon as McGee was gone, Gibbs rubbed his face. Kort was a man of stealth, the squeal of tires as he pulled in did not bode well. He met the other man on the front porch, but Kort didn't slow down until he was well inside.

"Got a problem, Gibbs."

"I thought you and McGee got out clean."

"We did, but..."

"But what?"

"They won't make the weapons deal with me now, Gibbs. They want the final negotiations to be with Master Gareth."

"Not my problem, Kort. Let one of your CIA buddies take it over."

"Unfortunately, it is your problem because they'll expect Master Gareth to be accompanied by..."

Gibbs didn't let him finish. "No way, Kort. No way in hell is he going back in there." Gibbs threw the door back open. "Figure out another way, because it's not happening."

Recognizing the implicit 'get out of my house' Kort stepped out onto the porch. He stopped at the stairs, but didn't look back. "I'm not sure any of us are going to have a choice in the matter, Gibbs."


	10. Chapter 10

Tim made it to the top of the stairs before sinking down to sit on the top step. The hushed voices from downstairs were still clearly audible and he closed his eyes as the discussion became apparent. He wasn't even aware that Kort had left before he felt a hand touch his face.

-NCIS-

Gibbs leaned heavily on the door after he locked it, reviewing their options. Vance's reaction to Tim's statement meant that he'd have the needed support on that end, all he needed was a plan to keep McGee out of the CIA's clutches. It wasn't until the flash of headlights that bounced against the front door that Gibbs straightened and watched Kort's car go down the street.

Having lost all desire to work in the basement, Gibbs turned off the lights and made his way to the stairs, only to see the hunched figure of Tim McGee sitting on the top step.

"Tim?" Gibbs reached out and gently cupped Tim's cheek. Terrified green eyes flew open. Gibbs expected him to scurry backwards, but after a second, he saw recognition just as Tim launched himself forward. Gibbs grabbed the handrail in time to prevent them both from tumbling down the stairs.

Gibbs slowly started to move them. "Easy, easy, I won't let them anywhere near you. You're safe, Tim." Once they were seated several steps lower than where they'd started, Gibbs began rubbing his hand up and down Tim's back, pressing his other head against the back of Tim's scalp. Tucked against him, he could feel the panicked breaths against his neck. "They won't touch you. I won't let them."

"I don't... I don't think we have a choice." Unconsciously mirroring the words Kort has used, Tim reluctantly pulled back for enough to look Gibbs in the eye. "I heard them talking about the weapons, Gibbs. It they fall into the hands of terrorists..."

Gibbs gave what he hoped was a reassuring smile, but it felt forced and hollow. "We'll find another way to stop them."

Tugging Tim close, Gibbs stood and walked him to the bedroom. Much like in the beginning, Tim was placid as Gibbs undressed him and put him to bed. Unlike in the beginning, after he stripped down, Gibbs crawled under the blankets with him.

Exhausted and overwhelmed, Tim instinctively burrowed down against Gibbs, settling as Gibbs pulled him close. Once he'd stilled, Gibbs enjoyed the weight against him as he felt the soft brush of air against his chest and the press of leg between his thighs.

-NCIS-

"Good morning."

"Morning." Tim gave a lazy smile and kissed the warm flesh under his mouth before he realized what he was doing and froze.

Gibbs felt the reaction and tenderly kissed the top of his head to let him know it was okay. "It's still early, let's go back to sleep for a while." He ran his fingertips up and down Tim's arm until he felt the younger man relax. Despite what he said, Gibbs stayed awake, listening to the cars as they drove by.

He waited until it was past when Vance would have arrived in the office and slowly slid out from under Tim, soothing him back to sleep as he moved. Once Gibbs was out of the bed he pulled the blankets up and smoothed them over Tim before brushing his hand over the fine hair. Adjusting the waistband of his boxers, Gibbs picked up his phone and slipped out the door.

-NCIS-

Vance leaned back and closed his eyes as he waited for his computer to boot up. Despite Gibbs' assurances, he had serious doubts about McGee being able to bounce back, especially after reading the statement he'd written while locked away in the lab. Just reading the details had given him nightmares, he couldn't imagine living with the memories on a daily basis.

A vibration against his hip told of an incoming call. Tempted to ignore it, he checked the display out of habit, then answered.

"Gibbs? How's McGee, has something happened?"

_Yeah, you could say that. Kort was here. His undercover OP now needs McGee to make it work._

"He wants to take McGee back into that club? Is he nuts?" Vance fell back into his seat, stunned. "I assume you have a plan?"

_Workin' on it._

Deadly serious, Vance tipped his chair forward to rest his elbows on the desk, his head in his hand. "Whatever you think is necessary, I'll back you, Gibbs."

_Appreciate that, Leon. I'll keep you posted._

Once the call ended, Vance closed his phone and got to work. If Gibbs was going on the run with the kid, he was going to need help.

-NCIS-

It was still quiet upstairs when the coffee was finished, so Gibbs poured two cups and took them with him. He sat on the edge of the bed and waited for the reaction. Tim's nose twitched and without ever waking up, he began to ooze toward Gibbs.

The chuckle finally woke McGee and he opened his eyes to find Gibbs sitting next to him, holding out a cup. Tim didn't even bother to sit up, just raised up on his elbow and held his hand out.

"You got it?" Gibbs openly laughed at the blissful expression on the other man's face.

"Mmm, coffee." McGee finished more than half the cup before he handed it back over so that he could sit up properly. Gibbs quickly set both cups on the nightstand and helped him to sit up and scoot back. Once he was settled, Gibbs handed back his coffee before joining him on the bed.

The two men enjoyed their coffee in silence, Gibbs waiting until Tim was done before bringing up the elephant in the room. "You're not responsible for the success or failure of Kort's mission."

Tim stared down into the empty cup. "That's easy to say in theory, but what happens if those weapons end up in the hands of terrorist?"

"What did you hear about them?" Gibbs tried to keep the conversation focused on the facts, what little they knew.

Just trying to remember had Tim on the verge of hyperventilating as the memory of the overheard conversation came with many more, unwanted, memories. "They... they... were talking about... about getting a million dollars for each one."

"Damn." Gibbs pulled Tim close as they rode out the flashback. After a moment, Tim took a shaky breath as he forced himself to calm down. Gibbs spoke before McGee could. "Don't apologize, you're doing fine. They were hurting you while they talked?"

Tim nodded and pointed out the bite marks on his right shoulder. "The guy that did that was bragging about how he was going to buy his own personal slave with his cut of the money. He said if I survived the night, maybe he'd buy me from Stephenson. I told him..."

Gibbs gave a proud smile to his boy. "What did you tell him?"

Pleased at this one memory, Tim glanced up with a smile of his own. "I told him he'd be the first one my Master would kill."

"Good boy."

-NCIS-

"You don't have to do this, you know." Instead of being lulled back to sleep, Tim was climbing out of bed.

The flashback had taken more out of him than he wanted to admit and once he was on his feet, Tim had to hang onto the bedframe. "I'm done hiding."

"All right." Recognizing a losing battle, Gibbs brushed his hand down the side of Tim's face. "Just don't overdo it." He and Tim took turns in the bathroom before sharing the shower. Settling into their now familiar routine, Tim rested his hands on Gibbs' waist and tilted his head back as Gibbs washed his hair for him. For his part, Gibbs enjoyed running his hands through Tim's hair as he watched the peaceful expression on his face.

Tim's eyes opened and he carefully watched Gibbs' face as the older man continued to wash him. This time there was no embarrassment as he thickened in Gibbs' hand.

-NCIS-

"Hey, Boss, Tim." Tony gave his friend a soft smile as he carefully watched McGee walk across to his desk. "You up to working, Buddy?" Without waiting for an answer, he turned to Gibbs. "Boss?"

"A few hours, Tony. He's got some research to do." Gibbs moved closer and lowered his voice. "I'm going upstairs. Make sure one of you is with him at all times, understood?"

Tony looked at his friend. Tim still looked fragile, the dark turtleneck highlighting his pallor. "On it, Boss."

Gibbs gave him an approving nod before leaning over to talk quietly to McGee. Tim nodded and smiled before booting up his computer as Gibbs went upstairs. Once the search was running, Tim looked up to see Tony still watching him.

"What?"

Tony seemed slightly embarrassed to be caught. "Nothing, it's just... it's good to see you back, man. It's not the same around here without you."

"Thanks, man."

-NCIS-

"I heard that McGee came in with you." Vance didn't even bother complaining when Gibbs walked through the door. "Is he up to it?"

"He needs to be a part of stopping these guys. Rather have him here doing his magic on the computer than letting Kort talk him into doing something stupid."

"Is Kort going to push him into something?"

Gibbs stood, staring out the window. "McGee's got an overwhelming need to do the right thing. All the years on the job, and he's never lost that. I'd rather we found another way to track down these weapons they claim to have."

"Any idea what they're trying to sell?" Vance rested his chin on his folded hands as he watched Gibbs.

"Nope. Gotta think they're military grade for the prices they're expecting to get. Be nice to know if anyone missing something that they haven't mentioned yet."

Vance reached for a toothpick before stopping himself. It was going to be a long day. "I'll rattle some cages, see if anything shakes loose."

"Appreciate it." Gibbs moved to leave, but Vance waved him back and tossed a stuffed envelope onto his desk.

"If it comes to it, I want you to have this."

Gibbs opened the manila envelope and looked inside. Fake identification, credit cards and a burn phone would make it easier if they had to run to keep McGee safe from his attackers – or the CIA. He nodded in understanding and appreciation.

-NCIS-

Gibbs' next stop was the lab. "Need my list of suspects, Abs."

She'd been waiting for this moment and nervously turned the list over to Gibbs. "I know I said I wanted them to resist arrest, but you're going to be careful, right?"

Ignoring the question, Gibbs looked over the print-out. "Tell me who did what." When she looked at him blankly, he clarified. "Where did each DNA sample come from?"

"You mean you want me to, like, map it out on his body?"

"Exactly."

Abby chewed on her lip. She had all the documentation, of course, but she'd tried hard to not look at it that way. "It'll take me a couple of hours, Gibbs."

"I'll be back." With a kiss to her cheek he was gone and Abby quickly sent an email to Tony before starting the new list.

-NCIS-

"Hey, McGee, where you been?" Larry Adams came around the corner, surprised to see Tim at his desk. He took in the bruises and the dual wrist braces. "What you do, wreck your car?"

Tim leaned back as Adams got into his personal space. "Yeah, something like that."

"Oh, man, not the Porsche. You got an estimate on the repairs, yet? My cousin knows a guy..."

"Larry, it's a Porsche, not the kind of car you take to a backyard mechanic." Tony tried to steer the nosy man away from his partner.

"Doesn't your own team have enough work to do, Adams?" Gibbs came around the other corner, glaring at the intruder. "Thought you guys had a murder to solve?"

"Umm, yeah." Larry stumbled through his answer as Tony latched onto his arm and steered him back to his side of the squad room. "Say, why did we catch that case and not your team?"

"I don't know, Larry." Tony reached over and straightened the other man's tie. "Why don't you tell the Director that he needs to clear his staffing decisions with you from now on."

"Agent Balboa was looking for you." Ziva arrived with four bags of food in a flat box and set them down on a nearby desk before picking up a stapler. "Are you lost, Larry?"

Deciding that satisfying his curiosity wasn't worth the risk, Adams backed up a few steps before scurrying away.

* * *

**a/n - Maybe you guys will like this chapter better than the last one. Yeah, I'm setting up for the main thrust of the story. Going to get wild. Tommorow I'll start posting _Laboring to Love_, but I'll be working on this one, too, in between.**


	11. Chapter 11

**a/n – Yep, I've started working on this one again. I'll be bouncing back and forth between this and _Laboring to Love_ until one is finished, then add _Impressions_ to the mix. BTW, I haven't forgotten anything on the gen side, but does not like it when I bounce between my two profiles very often, so I'll wait until I have several chapters to upload.**

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If Tim was surprised by the choice of grilled cheese sandwiches and tomato soup, he didn't argue as he enjoyed the traditional comfort food Ziva had brought back. Continuing with his decision not to argue with his team's almost obsessive need to shelter him for the moment, he also didn't object with the quiet but terse conversations between Tony and Ziva, or between Tony and Gibbs. It wasn't until Gibbs left to talk to Balboa that he finally said something.

"I'm not made of glass, guys. Larry's a jerk, always has been, but he doesn't know anything. I appreciate everything you're doing, but if you keep going overboard, he's going to get suspicious."

Tony wasn't convinced. "He's a jerk. He needs to learn when to keep his nose out of things."

"And wash his hands." Ziva gave them an innocent look. "Well, he does."

Comforted by their protectiveness, Tim returned to his search for what weapons were missing and who covered it up.

-NCIS-

After laying down the law to Balboa in regards to agency gossip, Gibbs returned to Abby's lab to check on her progress. "You got that injury chart finished for me, Abs?"

She had it in her hands and nodded slowly without handing it over. "You're going to be careful, right, Gibbs? I mean, you're going to take back-up with you?"

Instead of answering right away, Gibbs reached up and touched his own shoulder, mirroring what Tim had shown him earlier. "That bite, right there?" He waited until Abby nodded with a troubled expression. "The man that did that was planning on buying Tim from Stephenson so he can abuse him every day until he finally dies. Do you want McGee looking over his shoulder the rest of his life for an animal like that?"

"No, but I don't want Timmy destroyed by the guilt if something happens to you either, Gibbs." She handed it over, but didn't let go when he tugged. "Promise me?"

Gibbs leaned close and kissed her cheek before pulling the print-out from her hands. "They won't even know what hit them."

Unconvinced, Abby waited until he left in the elevator before sending another email to Tony.

-NCIS-

Gibbs stepped off the back elevator and came around to the bullpen just as Kort arrived from the main elevator, carrying a stack of personnel files. Gibbs cut him off before he could get too close to McGee, but Kort didn't look surprised. Instead, he held up the files. "I'll let McGee make the final decision about who to bring in."

"Conference room, now." When Ziva and Tony started to stand, he shook his head. "Not you two."

"But..." The glare shut down anything else Tony wanted to say and he and Ziva watched as Gibbs and Kort escorted McGee down the hallway.

"Tony, what is going on?"

DiNozzo ignored Ziva's question as he called down to the lab. "Abby, send me everything you gave Gibbs... yeah, right now." When he opened a computer file moments later, Ziva came around to look over his shoulder.

"Are these the men that..."

"Yeah," Tony was already pulling up records on the first name on the list, "and Gibbs is going after them."

"Alone?"

Snorting, Tony shook his head. "That's what he thinks."

Decision made, Ziva returned to her desk. "Send me half the list, Tony."

-NCIS-

Inside the conference room, Gibbs pointed the others to the table before he walked over to the camera and unplugged it, then the microphone. Once that was done, Kort didn't waste any time.

"Using four criteria, I've narrowed it down to three possible agents to play the part of Master Gareth. I'll let McGee make the final decision."

Tim hesitantly took the offered files. "What criteria did you use?" He glanced over at Gibbs before opening the first of the files.

Kort ticked the requirements off on his fingers. "First, of course, they had to be available and not in the middle of another operation. Second, they had to physically look the part. Third, they needed to be able to pull off the part."

"Okay, that makes sense." Tim took the photos out of each of the personnel jackets and laid them out in a row. "What's number four?"

This was where it was going to get tricky. "I needed to trust them enough to not take the shortest route to prove their dominance and establish their cover."

Tim froze and Gibbs had a pretty good idea what Kort was talking about. "What would that be?"

Kort answered Gibbs, but never took his eyes off of McGee. "By throwing the kid across a table and fucking his ass in front of the group."

Gibbs cursed under his breath, but McGee turned to Kort. "If we do this and it goes south, I don't want to die like their other victims." He pushed the pictures closer to Kort. "Which one of these men can I trust to kill me first?"

-NCIS-

Balboa and his team were on their way to canvas the neighborhood where their victim lived. He dropped two of his people off at one end of the street and drove several blocks before pulling over. "Larry, I had a complaint about you today. Leave McGee alone."

"What? Gibbs' people are too good to even talk to us mere mortals now? I just asked him a question."

"This complaint went to me as a courtesy, next time it'll go straight to Vance. Make sure there's not a next time. Are we clear?"

"Yeah, sure." Adams stared out the window. "Crystal."

-NCIS-

"Tim." Gibbs reached out and cupped the younger man's face. "No."

"Yes." He was trembling, but his voice was strong. "I'd rather have my neck snapped than to bleed to death from a baseball bat shoved up my ass, or even worse, kept alive as a long term plaything. Please, Gibbs."

"Damn it." Pulling Tim close, Gibbs stared at the pictures on the table. Three strangers, men he didn't know and wasn't ready to trust, no matter what Kort said or thought. There was only one person he trusted with McGee. "Damn it to hell, Kort, I'm not trusting him with any of them."

"Then who do you suggest, Gibbs, you?"

"If need be, yes." Gibbs glared at Kort over the top of Tim's head. "But neither of us are going near the place unless we know exactly what weapons they're trying to move. You got that?"

"That's not the way they work, Gibbs."

"Tough, that's the way I work and the first thing we're going to do is to level the playing field."

Kort groaned as he watched Gibbs dig his heels in. "What do you have in mind?"

-NCIS-

Tony watched over the edge of his monitor as Gibbs walked back with McGee, not letting go of the younger man until he was sitting at his desk. Only then did the team leader lean close and whisper something DiNozzo couldn't hear before trailing his hand down from Tim's shoulder to squeeze his hand, then stepping away.

"DiNozzo?"

"Yeah, Boss?" Tony waited as Gibbs moved closer and dropped his voice.

"I need to talk to Vance. Stay close to Tim, don't let him out of your sight for a second."

"Sure, Boss." Once Gibbs was upstairs and out of sight, Tony walked over to Ziva's desk and dropped some change next to her keyboard. When she looked up, he mouthed 'nutter butter' before stepping back. He knew McGee was watching the exchange, but he didn't approach the younger man until Ziva had left the bullpen.

Once the two men were alone, Tony squatted down next to McGee. "What's going on, Tim?"

McGee shook his head and continued typing, not stopping until Tony laid his hand on Tim's knee. "Gibbs is trying to find another way, but it looks like I have to go back to the club."

Tony rocked back in horror. "No way, you can't go back there. Gibbs won't let that happen."

Tim finally looked at Tony, his face clearly showing the devastation he was feeling. "When it comes down to it, neither of us are going to have much of a choice in the matter, Tony."

-NCIS-

Vance watched Gibbs pace in circles before eventually collapsing into a chair. "This is exactly why I gave you that packet."

"I know, but kind of weapons did they get their hands on? If McGee is right and it's something they expect to sell for over a million dollars each, we have to expect terrorists as their most likely buyers."

Hating it almost as much as Gibbs obviously did, Vance leaned forward. "Do you have a plan?"

"Yeah, and I'm going to need your help."


	12. Chapter 12

**a/n - I haven't fallen off the end of the earth, but a gen story on my other profile has consumed my life of late. Now that I have that on a M-W-F posting schedule, I have more writing time for this side of the fence. Just remember that I keep my two profiles as separate as I can, because the _aftermath_ of some people finding out could be difficult.**

* * *

Gibbs walked down the stairs, watching Tim carefully. The younger man was intently studying something on his computer under Tony's careful eye. Gibbs nodded at his senior agent before approaching McGee. Tim didn't verbally acknowledge his arrival, but instead started pulling up the records he'd found earlier.

"You ever seen these?"

Gibbs looked at the pictures on McGee's monitor. "The Hawk anti-aircraft missile. They phased those out back in the 90's, didn't they?"

"Late 90's, but they didn't start getting serious about destroying them until recently."

The expression on Tim's face gave Gibbs a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach. "And?"

"Here's the documentation for a shipment a few weeks ago that went to the depot to be destroyed." He gave Gibbs a minute to skim the image before pulling up a second, similar document. Side by side, the difference was immediately apparent.

"Somebody forged the arrival documentation. There's six missiles unaccounted for."

"And that's just one shipment."

Gibbs swore under his breath. "How many shipments are we talking about?"

"Not sure yet, I'm trying to make sure my search doesn't attract attention."

"So you don't tip off whoever they've got on the inside." Finishing for him, Gibbs reached out and brushed his hand down the back of Tim's head as he leaned close. "Good boy."

-NCIS-

Silently indicating for Tony to resume his protection detail, Gibbs turned and went back upstairs. Used to the constant interruptions, Pamela didn't bat an eye as Gibbs walked past her and into the inner office. Vance quickly finished his phone call and turned his undivided attention to Gibbs.

"Got a possible on the weapons – bunch of the Hawks that were slated for destruction never made it to their destination."

"The Raytheon Hawks? Those things are huge, how could that happen?"

Gibbs hitched one hip up on Vance's desk. "Forged paperwork, which means that someone along the route is involved."

"And is ranked high enough to pull it off. This is going to be bad, Gibbs."

"Ya think?"

It was days like this that reminded Leon why his mother wanted him to become an accountant. "I'll have to notify the SecNav."

It was days like this that reminded Gibbs of how much he hated politics. "Make sure he knows this is an active investigation. McGee is being damn careful to not tip our hand, we don't need some sudden audit spooking them before we can get all of the players."

"I know." Vance could feel a headache coming on. "This is turning into something much bigger than any group of arms dealers we've ever seen. We need to find a link between the men that attacked McGee and known terrorists. Are you starting tonight?"

"You ready on this end?"

Vance gave a slow nod. He wasn't thrilled with the plan, but their options were limited. He'd chosen not to run it by the legal department, just to be safe. "Yeah, we'll be ready."

-NCIS-

"You've been researching pretty hard there, Probie. What'd ya find?" Tony came around to lean over McGee's shoulder. "Those are some damn big missiles."

"Yep, and there's some missing."

"Missing? What do you mean, missing?" Tony looked up, sharing a concerned look with Ziva, who immediately joined them to also look at what McGee was working on.

"McGee, those missiles have the ability to take out a commercial airliner."

"Yeah." Tim had been studying and running numbers. "It wouldn't take much to alter them to target a stationary location, either, and with a range of almost three hundred miles..."

Tony rubbed his jaw. "What kind of payload are we talking about, McGee?"

"At least four of them have a 163 pound blast-fragmentation warhead; it wouldn't take much to turn them into a dirty bomb."

"Or they could load them with biological weapons. Between the initial blast and the airborne spread, one well placed missile could wipe out several square miles." Ziva was already calculating the death count if such a attack would occur in DC or New York.

Tim knew what she was thinking. "In a heavily populated area, the losses would be catastrophic. This is why I have to go back to that club. It might be the only way to stop this."

"You need more than Kort to watch your six, buddy."

"That's why I'll be going with him." They all three jumped as Gibbs appeared from around the corner. He smirked at Tony and Ziva before turning his attention to Tim. "How much longer do you need to stay here?"

McGee did a final check on his computer. "These searches will probably run all night."

"Okay, then let's go home."

"Ziva and I will bring pizza." Tony's announcement caused a raised eyebrow, but Gibbs didn't say anything as he escorted Tim out of the bullpen.

In the elevator, Gibbs barely let the metal box move before he threw the switch. Not saying anything, he pulled Tim close, wrapping his arms tighter as he felt Tim cling to him. It took a few minutes, but eventually, Tim straightened up. "I'm okay now." Gibbs gave a slow nod, touching the side of Tim's face before reaching out for the emergency stop button and restarting the elevator.

-NCIS-

Gibbs smirked, but didn't say anything when Tony and Ziva arrived at the house an hour later with a couple of pizzas, both of them dressed for a night raid. DiNozzo handed the flat boxes to Ziva and she continued on into the kitchen, while he faced off with Gibbs.

"You're going after the guys that hurt McGee." Gibbs didn't respond, but the crossed arms and raised eyebrow told Tony that he was at least listening. "Your first target is Robert Schmidt, because he's the one responsible for the bite on McGee's shoulder that you pointed out to Abby."

"You did your homework."

"Didn't see much of a choice." Mentally bracing himself, Tony forged ahead. "It doesn't matter how much you want to punish them for what they did to Tim, it's stupid to go after a gang like that without back-up. It would kill McGee if something happened to you because nobody had your back out there."

"He's not going alone."

Tony spun around to see Kort coming out of the kitchen, shoving a slice of pizza into his mouth. "Him? He's your back-up? What about us?"

"Kort is going with me because he knows these guys a hell of a lot better than just their rap sheets. You and Ziva are going to be on protection detail."

"You want us to sit here with Probie while you take out those animals?"

Gibbs stepped closer and lowered his voice, forcing Tony to focus on his words to hear them. "What I want is to be absolutely sure that Tim is safe in my home while I'm out there. You're the one I trust more than anyone for that, Tony."

Tony virtually glowed at the praise, but he still wasn't fully convinced as he whispered his concerns. "If it goes south and you get caught, who's to say he won't turn to save his own skin?"

"Number one, I won't get caught." Smiling, Gibbs let Tony in on his secret. "I'm not going to kill them, Tony, I'm going to do far worse."

DiNozzo stared at his boss, trying to figure out what that meant, but Gibbs just lightly tapped Tony's cheek before turning to Kort. "You done stuffing your face?"

"Save us some leftovers, DiNozzo." Kort smirked as he licked his fingers and followed Gibbs out the door.

"Damn it." Tony watched as an unmarked car pulled away from the curb, Kort behind the wheel. Running out of options, he stormed into the kitchen to find Ziva watching McGee as he studiously read a book, ignoring the pizza she'd set in front of him. "What the hell is going on, Probie? Why'd Gibbs go with Kort?"

"He didn't." McGee carefully marked his page before closing the book. As he started to speak, Tony interrupted him.

"Okay, so Gibbs didn't go with Kort, Kort went with Gibbs, if you want to be technical, but still..."

"No. Master Gareth has gone out with his second in attendance. It is his right to choose the manner of punishment for those that have damaged his property."

"McGee, are you listening to yourself? You sound like, like..."

"A slave, Tony?"

"Yeah." DiNozzo looked down at the book McGee was reading. "What the hell, you're studying how to be a slave? Didn't you get enough of that crap when you were there before?"

A flash of anger crossed McGee's face, followed by hurt, but he kept his voice steady as he explained himself to Tony. "The last time I was there, I was fighting for my life, and the only reason I survived was because they believed I belonged to one of the most powerful masters around. If I have to go back, the slightest mistake... they'll kill me and Gibbs and Kort and it won't be pretty."

"He's right, Tony." Up until then, Ziva had been quiet. "A strong master would have a perfectly trained slave."

"Yeah, I know." Knowing it and liking it were two different matters, however.

-NCIS-

Gibbs watched his prey, but didn't move in until he had the right witness. Only then did he slip behind Robert Schmidt and snake his arm around the other man's neck. Speaking just loud enough to be heard by the homeless man digging through the nearby dumpster, Gibbs increased the pressure on Schmidt's throat. "Nobody touches what is mine and lives to tell about it."

Once Schmidt was unconscious, Gibbs dragged him back to where Kort was waiting in the shadows and together they dumped him in the trunk of the car. A syringe filled with a long acting sedative guaranteed that he wouldn't wake up any time soon.

Twenty minutes later, the car arrived at a private airport. A short, dapper figure stepped out of the shadows and checked their captive. Satisfied, he supervised the loading of the unconscious man onto an airplane. Heavy leather cuffs and straps, along with a blindfold assured their total control. When Robert Schmidt finally woke up, he would find himself in a totally different world – one where terrorists had few privileges and even fewer right and he was definitely not at the top of the food chain. The armed guard saluted as he closed the door of the jet so it could taxi down the runway.

Shoulder to shoulder, the three men watched until the plane was out of sight. Kort was impressed even if he'd never admit it. "I hear the weather's nice in Cuba this time of year."

Gibbs just grunted as he pulled out his phone. Whoever was at the other end of the call answered quickly. "One down." He didn't wait for an acknowledgment before ending the call. "Let's go home."


	13. Chapter 13

**a/n - As promised, the next chapter of Slave. I'm almost finished with HNY also, so expect that in the next day or two. It's hard to write steamy with a 5yo that likes to come up and figure out the words on the screen, so I can only work on that at night after everybody is in bed. I'm bouncing between gen and all the way up to M rated stuff and cranking out high word counts (12k so far this month) so you should have something to read pretty often on at least one of my profiles. Tomorrow you'll get story 3 from the AALCSLD series.**

* * *

Gibbs and Kort arrived back to find DiNozzo and David with guns drawn, prowling between the windows. "What's wrong?"

Tony gave one last look out the front window before holstering his gun. "Had the same car pass by twice. Too dark to get a plate, though. Any chance you were made?"

Kort wasn't taking any chances. "Take McGee upstairs, I'll take the first shift."

Gibbs looked around before nodding. "Yeah, okay, thanks." He turned to Ziva. "Did McGee eat?"

"No." Ziva shook her head, letting her annoyance show. "He absolutely refused to eat. I do not understand it. It has been hours since lunch."

"Don't worry about it, Ziva. I promised him that we'd eat together when I got back." To prove his point, Gibbs walked past her to get McGee and the leftovers.

-NCIS-

Tim didn't relax until he heard the familiar voice out in the living room. Taking a few deep breaths, he set his reading aside to wait for Gibbs. When he arrived, it was all Tim could do to wait until Gibbs walked through the kitchen door before burrowing himself against the other man.

"Is it over?"

"One down and on his way South." Gibbs tightened his arms around McGee as he reviewed the plan. One attacker vanished tonight with a witness that would talk, but people would doubt. Nevertheless it would make them jumpy. Tomorrow, when several more of their group disappeared, the remaining men would begin to turn on each other, wondering how someone was targeting them so effectively. It wasn't foolproof, but the more they could take out before the operation, the greater their chances of success.

"Good." Tim's stomach growled and Gibbs pulled back to look him in the eye. "Did you eat anything while I was away, boy?"

Tim looked pleased with himself. "No Master."

Gibbs felt the need to adjust himself at McGee's words. "Good boy. Now, heat up those leftovers and take them upstairs for us." Tim scurried to comply and Gibbs turned to see two sets of disapproving eyes watching them.

"You two, living room, now."

Tony jumped in it the second they were in the living room, Ziva a few seconds later.

"Boss, what the hell was that all about?"

"Was that entirely necessary, Gibbs?"

"Yes, it was necessary." Gibbs glared at both of them. "In just a few days he's going to have to play the perfect slave. What happens if we don't pull it off? Think about that, both of you and if you can't handle it, tell me now so I can bring someone else in."

Kort was leaning against the wall with his own slice of pizza, blocking the team from McGee as he made his way upstairs with the pizza and beers. "I've got a couple of guys we can use for back-up."

"No." Tony might not be comfortable with what was happening, but he sure the hell wasn't going to walk away from backing up Gibbs. "We can handle it."

Gibbs had seen the look on Tim's face as he slipped up the stairs. "I want more than that, DiNozzo. Don't you ever make Tim feel ashamed about what's happened or what he has to do now. You got me?"

"Yeah, I got it." Tony had seen the look on Tim's face, too, and felt instantly guilty. He walked over to the staircase and shouted. "Hey, McGee, man I'm sorry. I really put my foot in it."

There was no answer and Tony shrugged as he turned away. Gibbs glared at him before giving Kort a meaningful look and going up the stairs. Kort waited until he heard the door close upstairs. "A properly trained sub does not speak without his Master's permission."

Tony let his head drop as he groaned. He was two for two and didn't have a clue what he was doing.

-NCIS-

The fact that Tim was sitting on the edge of the bed, bowed head in his hands, was enough to tell Gibbs that the team's reactions had thrown him completely out of their scene. Gibbs sat next to him, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and pulling him close. "It's okay."

"No, it's not." Tim burrowed closer as the fear and terror of what had happened finally came to the surface. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry."

Tim McGee was a very reserved man, even his tears that first night had been silent, but Gibbs knew how necessary and cleansing this moment was as he tightened his grip and rode out the storm. "It's not your fault, it's mine. I shouldn't have set our first scene here and I shouldn't have been so casual about it. Tomorrow," He waited until Tim was looking up at him and used his thumbs to wipe Tim's face dry. "Tomorrow, we will be in a proper place and do it right, okay?"

"Okay."

"Good boy. Now, let's eat and get some sleep. We're going to have a busy day tomorrow."

-NCIS-

Tony felt even worse when he heard the muffled sobs coming from the upstairs bedroom. He turned to see Kort staring at him. "What?"

"You're going to have to either shut up or learn to understand the scene. I'm not in the mood to teach you, so I suggest you talk to Miss Sciuto – or, perhaps Doctor Mallard."

"Ducky?!"

Ziva would have found the cracking of Tony's voice hysterical, but she was just as shocked. "You can't be serious."

Tony took one look at Kort and knew he was very serious. He muttered as he covered his eyes. "I did not need to know that. Are you and I the only ones without whips and chains in the bedroom?" Suddenly worried, he peeked at her through his fingers. "Don't answer that."

She didn't, but it was because something else had caught her attention. "The car is back."

Kort looked out the window and saw the black sedan pull to the curb several houses down, only its running lights on. He nodded to DiNozzo and David and the three of them slipped out the back door and through the neighbor's yard to approach the car. Separating, Tony and Ziva each headed for a door while Kort crept past the next car on the street to stand in front and drew down on the driver through the windshield.

There was a muffled scream and Tony banged on the driver's side window. "Larry, you idiot, what in the hell do you think you're doing?" without waiting for an answer, he opened the door and roughly dragged the other agent out, forcing him to his knees.

"There was something weird going on."

"I believe you were told several times to stay out of it, Larry. Maybe we should just let Agent Kort here handle you from now on."

Kort seemed to be seriously weighing his options as he stepped closer, bumping the side of Adams' face with the barrel of his weapon. "Don't think you people have had a suicide at your agency for a while. I do have some cyanide in my car, but he looks more like a hanging kind of guy to me. What do you think, DiNozzo?"

"I think," Tony wrinkled his nose as the front of Adams' pants darkened. "We're going to have to hose him off before we do anything."

-NCIS-

"Here, your wife brought you clothes." Vance dumped an overstuffed duffel bag onto the table in the interrogation room. "You have a choice between immediate termination with complete loss of benefits or a six month posting in Bahrain. Judging by the amount of clothes she sent, I'm assuming your wife is pushing for Bahrain."

"Sir, you can't do this."

"Really? Try me." Vance planted his fists on the table and leaned into Adams. "Your little stunt threatened to expose a major, multi-agency operation to stop what could be the largest terrorist attack since 9-11, not to mention risk the lives of some of your fellow agents. What do you have to say for yourself?"

"I didn't know."

"Your re-certifications and annual evaluations are consistently the lowest in the agency, Adams, not to mention that you have more complaints and black marks in your file than any agent I've ever dealt with. Why in the hell would I ever trust you with something this critical? The real question is how have you managed to hang on as long as you have. Tell you what, I'll give you a third option. How about immediate transfer to the CIA? I'll let Kort's handlers decide how to make an example of you." Vance was breathing hard as he straightened up.

"Bahrain."

"What was that, Larry?"

"I'll take the Bahrain assignment – Sir."

The hesitation with the 'sir' didn't help Leon's mood and he marched to the door, throwing it open. "Balboa, take him down to the showers to clean up and make sure he doesn't screw anything else up."

-NCIS-

After a few quiet words with Kort, Gibbs returned to the bed. "It's okay, it was Adams out there. The idiot. At least Vance is shipping him out so he won't bother you again."

"Be nice to not have him hovering around anymore."

There was something in Tim's tone that set off Gibbs' gut. "He give you problems before this?"

"Kinda." Tim didn't look up as he explained. "Always going on about how he'd eventually get my spot on your team. He's an idiot and usually I just laugh him off, but..."

"But right now you're feeling vulnerable." Gibbs finished for him before telling him what he never knew about Adams. "He's been hanging onto his field agent status by a thread for years. The only reason he's on Balboa's team is because Vance is still pissed at Balboa for dropping Jackie's Christmas present last year. While you, Mr. Gemcity, used your connections to get the store to deliver a replacement before they closed on Christmas Eve."

"Oh, yeah. I'd forgotten about that. Signed and dated Swarovski Annual Edition Crystal Snowflake Ornament, only one thousand imported from Austria every year." A smile tugged at the corner of Tim's mouth. "It was the last one left on the Eastern seaboard and Vance gave our team two days off for New Years."

"Sure did." Gibbs was pleased to see Tim drift off to sleep with that happy memory.


End file.
